


A Good Knight Sleep

by SeeThemFlying



Series: The Ice Cream Anthology [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Actors, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, And a little drop of comedy, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Musicians, References to Drug Use, Second Chances, Slow(ish) Burn, There is Renly/Brienne in this, Veiled references to historic sexual abuse, but only in the context of dreams, but the dreams feature prominently, even though Renly isn't actually into girls, girl bands, spice girls AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:22:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28561251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeeThemFlying/pseuds/SeeThemFlying
Summary: Ten years ago, Jaime Lannister was world famous as the lead singer of Westeros' favourite boybandKingsguardand Brienne Tarth was his number one fan. Surrounded by his posters, Brienne was inspired to form her own band -Maidenly- with her best friends Sansa, Margaery, Daenerys, and Asha. Although initially for fun,Maidenlysoon found themselves at the top of the charts when the song Brienne wrote about Jaime -My Perfect Knight- puts them in direct competition withKingsguardand their bad boy lead singer.In light of their success,KingsguardofferedMaidenlythe chance to join them on their tour, finally giving Brienne the chance to meet her idol. However, she soon discovers he is not the man his music led her to believe, and the two take a passionate disliking to each other, which they don't forget over the years.Fast forwards a decade, andMaidenlygets another chance at the limelight with Jaime as their manager, exposing old grudges. Can Brienne keep the identity of the eponymousPerfect Knightsecret and work with Jaime to write the next big hit? Or will a new age guru help her find inspiration elsewhere?
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Past Jaime Lannister/Cersei Lannister, Renly Baratheon/Brienne of Tarth
Series: The Ice Cream Anthology [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1440058
Comments: 182
Kudos: 153





	1. Never Meet Your Idols

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I told myself I wasn't gonna start any more long fics but... I don't care. Here is Ice Cream Anthology 7, which will be the final part in this series! It is loosely, loosely (and I mean very loosely) based on the 2007 film "The Good Night" which stars Simon Pegg in a secondary role. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Chapter 1 is a slightly reworked version of a chapter I wrote for my "Many Flavours of Ice Cream" Anthology a few months ago, but it is all new stuff from here on out. It has a brief mention of drug use.
> 
> I am going to aim to post every Monday night, but we'll see how that goes.

The Rosby Festival was the biggest music festival in the Seven Kingdoms. As a bright-eyed eighteen year old, Brienne had snuck out of Tarth on a late night ferry in order to go, desperate to see her absolute favourite band who were headlining.

 _Kingsguard_ were _awesome,_ after all.

Arthur Dayne's skills on the electric guitar were legendary. Barristan Selmy was the bassist to beat all bassists. Gerold Hightower caused a storm on the drums. Lewyn Martell lit up harmony with his keys, and Oswell Whent had the most expressive bass voice. Brienne loved each and every one of them for their talents but, in her opinion, none of them compared to Jaime Lannister. Although Jaime was the youngest member of _Kingsguard,_ he was clearly the most famous. With his golden blond hair, green-eyes, and perfectly sculpted body, he had the world alight with equal parts lust and fascination. Magazines heralded him the most beautiful man who had ever lived. Pompous music critics called his the voice that defined a generation. Teenaged girls lined the roads screaming wherever he went. Yet Brienne felt none of that did him justice, because Jaime had been the beacon she had sailed towards during her darkest days. When Ron Connington made her life a living hell at school, she would come home and listen to _The Sword of the Morning_ album, particularly Jaime's crooning rendition of _The_ _Seasons of My Love_ _._ All at once it was jaunty and light-hearted, but also a type of sad that was happy for clever people.

His voice had allowed her soul to fly free.

Given how much he meant to her, Brienne had plastered her walls with Jaime's posters, followed him on all social media platforms, set up a stan account for him that was purposefully designed to get into spats with people who dissed him on twitter, organised a fan-mail group, passionately declared his relationship with the singer Cersei was not creepy but _couple goals_ to anyone who would listen, vigorously promoted any charity he was interested in, and dreamed of leaving Tarth and seeing her idol for real.

Therefore, the Rosby Festival had been a dream come true. Although she had been up in the gods Brienne had almost died, as she was so close to her idol that she could see him on the big screen, his sweat dripping down the centre of his six pack as he sung about the maids of summer with flowers in their hair.

"I LOOOOOOOOVVVVVEEEEE YOOOOOOOUUUUUUU JAAAAAAAIIIIIMMMMEEEE!!!" Brienne screamed at the top of her lungs, sending a burning feeling through her chest. His voice and his body and his deep green eyes that contained the world were her only refuge in a cruel, terrible world, so she needed him to know how much she adored him. It was just a shame the rest of the stadium did too. "I LOOOOOOVVVEEEE YOOOOUUU SOOOOOO MUUUUUCH!"

After she had seen _Kingsguard_ give the most spellbinding, heart-breaking, wonderful, transcendent set at the Rosby Festival, Brienne had tried to crash the backstage parties in the hope of meeting Jaime, but the security had been far too stringent. Consequently, Brienne headed back to Tarth with a mixture of feelings; happy that she had finally seen _Kingsguard_ live, but disappointed that she had not had a moment with Jaime. She longed to tell him how he had saved her life, after all. Late at night, his wonderful lyrics were the only balm against doing herself some harm that she might later regret.

_"High in the Halls of the kings who are gone,_

_Jenny would dance with her ghosts."_

Eighteen year old Brienne had feared that would be her last chance, but nineteen year old Brienne knew quite different. During her year at King's Landing University, Brienne had fallen in with a fun group of girls who didn't care that she had had no friends at high school, and genuinely valued her company. Margaery, Sansa, Daenerys, and Asha were all different from each other and different from the type of girls Brienne ever thought could be _her_ friends, but she loved them, nevertheless.

Brienne loved them even more when Margaery found the poem she had written about Jaime Lannister in a fit of existential angst, and had not laughed. In fact she seemed positively effusive about Brienne's style. Burying him under layers of metaphor and evocative language, Brienne thought _My Perfect Knight_ was obviously all about the man who had lifted her out of the depths of her depression and loneliness with nothing but his voice and his soulful gaze.

"Oh my gods, this is amazing, Brienne!" squawked Margaery, jumping down on the bed beside her as she read it again. "Who did you write this for?"

Brienne blushed, then shrugged to hide her embarrassment. "No one. The knight is an abstract concept, really, a palette onto which I project my ideals."

"You are so sentimental," laughed Asha joined them on the bed. Snatching the piece of paper from Margaery, she had a look. "But I gotta say... this is quite good. It could almost be a song."

"Ooooh, I'll get my bass! I'll pluck out a riff and we can work from there!" offered Sansa, dashing into the next room to get her guitar.

And then, quite suddenly, it _was_ a song; Sansa plucked out an interesting skeleton rhythm on her bass, Asha used the bed's headboard to knock out a rough beat, and Brienne, Margaery, and Daenerys worked on the melody. The next time they sung it, they booked an official rehearsal room in KLU's music department so Asha could use real drums and Margaery could work out the chords on her electric guitar as loud as she wanted. To give the piece the ethereal harmony she had imagined, Brienne improvised on the piano while Daenerys sung the melody that they had devised over the top of everything in her beautiful, haunting voice.

After that, it all went so quickly that it made Brienne's head spin. Sansa's brother Robb ran the university radio station, so played _My Perfect Knight_ during his show. From there, listeners called in asking where they could download it, so the girls had to come up with a quick band name and use Asha's brother's computer wizardry to get it put somewhere on the internet where they could be heard. They used Daenerys' father's connections to get their name out there and before they knew it, two months later, _My Perfect Knight_ was the anthem of the summer, and _Maidenly_ had stolen the number one spot in the charts off _Kingsguard._ All five members of the band had put their studies on hold, and their new manager Petyr Baelish was determined to make them the new hot ticket in town.

"I've got you a live gig," he said, peering over the table at the five members of _Maidenly_ with a hungry look in his eye. " _Kingsguard_ need a warm-up act for their concert in the Blackwater Stadium next month and you are on the bill."

Sansa and Margaery let out an excited squeal, while Asha and Daenerys high-fived, but Brienne could only stare at Petyr, completely dumbfounded. _Maidenly_ were going to be singing with _Kingsguard_ , and that meant...

 _Oh gods I'm going to meet Jaime Lannister,_ thought Brienne, her cheeks catching fire. _I, Brienne Tarth, am going to meet Jaime Lannister... at last._

As _Kingsguard_ were embarking on a tour of the Free Cities the day after their concert in King's Landing, there was not a huge time for rehearsal, but they were at least allowed to block their number in the stadium in the hours before. Several members of _Kingsguard_ were already there, including Arthur Dayne and Barristan Selmy, who were tuning their guitars while _Maidenly_ ran through their set. Once they had finished practicing, the lighting guys had to set up their rigs, so asked all the performers to stay on stage while they sorted it out. To Brienne's surprise, Arthur came to speak to her, causing her to almost die on the spot.

"Hey, so I heard you were the lyricist for _My Perfect Knight,_ " Arthur grinned, his perfect teeth shining. He had never been her favourite member of _Kingsguard_ \- that position was, of course, reserved for Jaime - but if Arthur was this beautiful up close, Brienne wasn't sure if she was going to be able to cope with her knight in shining armour.

She blushed to the roots of her hair. "Yes, it was me."

"Well, those lyrics are fucking incredible. Maybe we should get you to come and write for us?"

"Yeah," agreed Barristan, coming over to join them. "It's better than those crappy lyrics Jaime pumps out when he's high and expects us all to agree its high art."

As Arthur and Barristan started chuckling in agreement, Brienne felt a knot tighten in her stomach. She knew what people said on the internet; that Jaime wasn't a proper artist because his dad, Tywin, was old friends with _Kingsguard's_ manager and has bought his son's way into the band. To refute these clueless people's arguments, Brienne had compiled a huge pile of counter-evidence that demonstrated Jaime's immense talent and the fact he got into _Kingsguard_ on that alone, and she often used it to take people down on any social media platform that Jaime needed defending on. That Arthur and Barristan were making little jokes therefore made her feel uncomfortable.

She gave them an uneasy smile. " _Kingsguard's_ lyrics are really good, and Jaime obviously speaks from the heart when writing them..."

"Ha," snorted Barristan, which earned him an agreeing nod from Arthur. "Jaime normally comes up with his lyrics thirty seconds before a fucking composition session, and two minutes after he's done a line of coke and banged his sister. Please don't give him any more credit than he deserves."

As Arthur and Barristan continued to laugh, Brienne tried to keep her composure, but found it hard. "Cersei isn't his sister. She's his _step-sister._ It's not like they grew up together..."

"Oh please don't tell me you are a Jaime fangirl," said Barristan good-humouredly. "They are the _worst_. They can't even see what is blatantly obvious. _Kingsguard_ were a brilliant band when it was just six mates who wanted to make music, until Aerys decided to parachute Jaime in as the front man because he's pretty and Aerys owes Tywin a favour. That's literally all the kid's got going for him. The rest of the time he just does drugs and lectures us all about monogamy."

Brienne furrowed her brow. "Monogamy is a good thing, isn't it?"

"Not when you are banging your sister," shot back Arthur, which caused Barristan to snort in amusement. Brienne had to clamp down on her bottom lip with her teeth in order to prevent herself snapping _step-sister._

"He can't be all bad," said Brienne mildly, wanting to get the conversation onto less dangerous territory. "He has a really good voice and the crowds love him."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Yeah, he's got a good voice and a pretty face, but it won't last long if he keeps shovelling shit up his nose and getting pissed as a newt every day with a Y in it. I mean the rest of us have been here for hours already, and where is he?"

"Probably unconscious in the back of Cersei's tour bus," said Barristan darkly.

"Making us all late, that's where," concluded Arthur in a gruff, sulky voice. "Sometimes, I can't wait for the day he flounces off in a sulk about the need for artistic integrity and decides to go solo. He'll do us all a fucking favour."

Barristan agreed to that proposition with a _mmm_ so enthusiastic that Brienne had to excuse herself and find something else to do. Jaime had helped her through her darkest days with his silky voice and lyrics that spoke of love and loss, regret and pain. She refused to believe that he did not get on with his bandmates, or that he was a parachuted in drug addict only a member of _Kingsguard_ due to his father's connections and his pretty face.

 _He saved me,_ she thought. _I know he is good._

Unfortunately, Jaime did nothing to change Arthur and Barristan's evident opinions about him, as he made the whole cast and crew wait for him for hours until appearing at the last possible moment, when he arrived on set just after six looking a bit spaced out. The rest of _Maidenly_ had been led to their dressing room to prepare, but Brienne had lingered in the wings longing to see her hero. Just as she expected, he looked like an angel.

"Look, can we just get this fucking rehearsal done?" Jaime groused to Lewyn as the stage manager tried to go through the layout of the stage with him. "I know all these bloody songs; I bloody write them!"

As _Kingsguard's_ set started up, Brienne found herself banished out of the wings by a particularly irate sound guy, but she did not mind as it meant she could take the long, slow walk back to her dressing room listening to Jaime sing.

 _As good as ever,_ she thought in wonder as he reached the high note in _Dark Sister. In fact, better than ever, because I get to be close to him as he sings._

Eventually, the _Kingsguard_ set came to an end and, conscious she might not get another chance, Brienne decided to make her move once she had given him a few moments to settle. As he was the star of the show, Jaime was given his own dressing room, twice the size of _Maidenly's_ tiny area and full of designer furniture. Leaving Margaery and Sansa to a very boring conversation about fake eyelashes, Brienne snuck down the corridor to go and knock on his door.

 _Be brave,_ she told herself. _Be brave and you can finally get to meet your idol._

Thankfully, by the time Brienne reached his dressing room door, there was nobody around. It meant that she could take a few moments to prepare her words. She would tell him how much she loved his music, that it had saved her from the pits of depression, and only a truly wonderful soul could have written such powerful music...

The door of the dressing room swung open quite unexpectedly. Brienne sucked in a panicked gasp. Jaime Lannister was standing in front of her; all long blond rock god curls, forest green eyes, and a jaw so sharp she was scared it could cut her. To make matters worse, he had his shirt off and his jeans were slung low on his hips, making every inch of his kissable chest excitingly close.

"Who are you?" he barked; his green eyes narrowing in curiosity.

Brienne nearly swallowed her tongue in her attempt to answer. "I am Brienne Tarth, I am the keyboard player for..."

"Actually, I don't give a shit," he said harshly, waving his hand at her. "I asked Addam to bring me my fucking coffee and my pills and he still hasn't arrived, and Cers wants some room temperature mountain water, not this ice cold crap you've served. It's not good for her vocal cords. So can you just go and get on with it? Isn't it what Aerys fucking pays you for?"

Brienne blinked a few times, barely comprehending what was happening. Jaime Lannister was talking to her and he was using the same tone that Ron Connington used to when he was trying to make her feel small. It was so incongruous with the mental version of him that she had built up in her head, that she could not help but stare at him with her mouth wide open.

"Did you hear me?" he asked tauntingly. "Go get Cers her fucking water. She's the best singer in the world and her vocal cords need to be treated with care."

At yet another request for water, Brienne finally found the words to refute his assumptions. "I'm not employed by Aerys, or the stadium, or anyone. My name is Brienne and I am a member of the _Maidenly,_ and I just wanted to say that your music was an insp--"

"Oh yeah," replied Jaime, realisation dawning on his face. "You are one of that fucking girl group Aerys is forcing us to sing with, aren't you?"

"We aren't a _girl group,"_ bristled Brienne. "We're..."

Jaime rolled his eyes. "You're a girl group. Let me guess, Baelish has assigned each of you some adjective that will serve as your personality while you are in the band to cover up the fact that none of you have any talent?"

At that burn, Brienne heard a girlish giggle coming from inside his dressing room room, but she barely noticed as her excitement, admiration, and joy at seeing him was rapidly turning into anger at being so thoroughly insulted.

"How dare you?" she began, lifting herself up to her full height in order to lean over him intimidatingly. He just raised his eyebrow as a type of challenge. "How dare you speak to me like that? I am your colleague for tonight, and you should treat me with respect..."

Jaime Lannister laughed, and it sounded so cruel that for a moment Brienne thought she was staring into Ron Connington's eyes, not those of the man who had saved her at the darkest point in her life. "Unless you are going to get me some water, I am not fucking interested," he growled, showing no sense of offering her even basic human decency.

"I..."

"No?" he asked, tilting his head to one side. "Then leave us alone!"

The door was slammed so violently that the wall almost shook, leaving Brienne standing quite alone in the corridor, all the colour draining from her face. Her jaw was nearly on the floor. Brienne had never met anyone so rude, obnoxious, or insulting as the man she had just had the misfortune to encounter, and he was the very same man who had taught her soul to fly.

If there was one thing for certain, it was that she was deleting all her Jaime Lannister fan accounts the second she got back to her hotel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! As ever, I would love to hear what you think!
> 
> And before anyone asks... yes, basically _Kingsguard_ is _Take That_ and Jaime is Robbie Williams. I don't write the rules.


	2. One Hit Wonder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten years later, Brienne and her friends meet up, but the past lingers over their head...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Thanks so much for coming back! This is a little earlier than I originally said, so I think from now on I will say "I will post updates of this on a Monday". I hope you enjoy; I am having real fun writing this one!
> 
> Note: Passing mention of sexual assault in this one, but it is only very passing.
> 
> PS. Thanks for the guys on discord who helped me come up with Maidenly's band names!

**Now**

"I think that is it for the day!" said Randyll, kicking back in his chair and resting his head in his locked together hands. "We have our slogan!"

Although Brienne clapped along with the rest of the team, she found she was biting her tongue. She thought Mark's slogan for the eco-friendly water bottles - _Water Is As Water Does_ \- was stupid and didn't make any sense, but she kept her mouth shut. For once, it seemed that Randyll would be letting them out on time, so she wasn't going to be the one to complain.

"Tomorrow, we are going to be liaising with the graphic design team, so I need you all here at 9am _sharp._ We have a busy day ahead."

Brienne nodded, pretending to be interested, but surreptitiously began to pack her bag under the desk. It was difficult to work in this job at the best of times - being the jingle writer on the advertising team was _soul-destroying_ \- but for first time in forever, Brienne was going to be meeting up with Sansa, Margaery, Daenerys, and Asha, and didn't want to be late because of Randyll Tarly and eco-friendly water bottles. Luckily, Randyll had turned away from the team to talk to Ed Bushey, leaving a clear opportunity in which Brienne could swing her bag over her shoulder, overtake her colleagues, and high tail it out of the meeting room before he noticed.

Unfortunately for her, she was not the only person who had this exact plan.

"Hey, Brienne. Where are you going?"

At the sound of his voice, Brienne's shoulders tightened with tension, even as she paced ahead. She had places to be, and those places did not include hanging around at the office making small talk with Hyle Hunt.

"Why is it any of your business?"

Her question clearly prickled at him, as Hyle picked up his pace in order to catch up with her, falling in step beside her. Jogging made him a little out of breath. "Because we were going to get _married,_ once."

"Yeah, _once..."_ she said, remembering the shop bought wedding dress that hadn't quite fit and the uneasy feeling that she was doing something wrong. "And then you cheated on me with Jeyne from Accounts and I dumped you. So where I am going right now is absolutely none of your business. You don't have any claim over my life."

As some of their fellow colleagues also departing the meeting room exchanged knowing looks, Hyle sighed in that melodramatic way he was prone to do, as if _he_ was the injured party. "We could talk it out, Brienne, I know we could. You still work here, which tells me that you don't hate me... if you did, you would leave. So if we got some counselling, or just spent a bit more time together..."

She wanted to laugh, but that might give Hyle the idea that she wanted to engage with him. "I've stuck at this job because I enjoy it," she lied, still refusing to look at him. "Not because I want to be close to you."

That confession seemed to surprise Hyle. He had clearly overestimated how interesting and alluring she found him - which was strange, because his main virtue had been that his dick worked - and now found himself strangely bruised by the antipathy she displayed towards him. Frowning slightly, he changed his tactics, and decided to hit her where it hurt.

"Everybody knows you only stay here because it is easy."

Brienne bristled. As much as it pained her, it was true. She _did_ only stick at this hell hole of an advertising agency because it was better than going freelance. Once _Maidenly_ had broken up six years ago, she had rapidly learnt that the music industry was not about talent or skill, but marketability and whose dick you were willing to suck. While Daenerys went onto a moderately successful solo career, Margaery TV presenting, and Sansa modelling, Brienne had found it impossible to locate anybody interested in her acoustic album that had been lifted straight from her heart, and her manager Petyr Baelish had dropped her like a hot potato. That path of disappointment and rejection had led her straight to jingles, Randyll Tarly, and eco-friendly water bottles.

"Yeah, well... easy is better than no job at all," she muttered, not really having a comeback.

Hyle smirked at her, relishing his tiny victory. " _Or_ you are still into me."

Not wanting to get into a fight in the lobby of her place of work, Brienne gritted her teeth and powered on forward. She had places to go and people to see, and was now much, much better at controlling her temper than she had been in the past. Leaving Hyle to his triumph, she marched out the building, determined to meet her friends on time.

* * *

**Then**

Due to traffic, the tour bus had arrived in Norvos several hours late, meaning everyone aboard was hot, sweaty, and steaming angry by the time they got to the artiste's lounge at the Stadium. In the distance, Brienne could already hear the steady hum of people, informing her that their audience was beginning to gather. It made her feel like a hamster madly running on a wheel; trapped, with time running out.

"How am I going to have time to do my meditation routine before we go on stage?" groused Lewyn as he shucked off his leather jacket and chucked it on a nearby sofa. "You know I always have to do my meditation?"

"We know, Lew," said Oswell, patting Lewyn on the back. "Don't worry. We have plenty of time."

Knowing that this was going to descend into an irritating conversation about zen and inner peace, Brienne moved past them silently, trying not to let it get to her after the torture of that sticky, uncomfortable journey. Due to their record company being cheap, _Kingsguard_ and _Maidenly_ had been forced to share a tour bus all the way from Qohor, despite the fact that times had changed and _Kingsguard_ were the support act and _Maidenly_ the stars.

Even so, Jaime Lannister had spent the whole journey acting like he was still the star of the show, spreading himself out on the three person sofa like an overindulged cat. Supine and sexy, Jaime had smoked his way to Norvos, strumming on his stupid guitar and singing.

" _When Cersei smiles... it takes me miles... to my personal paradise..._ What do you think of that, Gerold? The rhyme... the metre... is it any good?"

Given that Jaime was high - as usual - Gerold did not look up from his phone as he heated a bag of popcorn in the microwave. "It's great, Jaime," he said, monotone. "Absolutely great. It could be the next hit."

Although she knew it was often better to humour Jaime in his delusions, Brienne had been a bit resentful at the fact that Gerold had trumpeted _When Cersei Smiles_ as a modern day classic because it undoubtedly _wasn't_ absolutely great, especially after they had all been forced to hear those same two lines three-hundred times in the space of three hours. _Kingsguard_ had not had a hit in eighteen months, not since Cersei had got serious about her career and stopped coming on tour with Jaime. He argued that it was because he had lost his muse - "How can I write about love when my love is so far away?" - but Brienne wondered whether Cersei had been writing his songs the whole time, because _When Cersei Smiles_ was objectively shit.

"At least we don't have to listen to anymore of Jaime's _poetry_ ," smirked Asha quietly as she threw herself into one of the armchairs artiste's lounge, leaning her head back and revelling in the ice cold air conditioning. "The _smiles-miles_ rhyme was so astoundingly awkward it nearly made my ears fall off."

Brienne snorted in amusement as she perched on the sofa adjacent to Asha and found herself immediately joined by Daenerys. At first, Brienne thought Daenerys wanted to chat, but she saw that her violet eyes had gone big and wide in the way they did when she was focussed on something beyond the people that happened to be around her. She instantly reached out to a fruit bowl that was sitting on the coffee table in front of them to grab a peach.

"Gods, I'm starving," she whispered. "Tell me if Petyr comes in, won't you?"

Asha and Brienne nodded in unison. Ever since Petyr had come up with the brilliant idea of giving all the members of _Maidenly_ adjectives to distinguish them in the eyes of the adoring public, Daenerys had found herself ignobly rendered as the _Cute Maid_ and had been forced on a gruelling diet to make her tiny waist even tinier. For the first time ever, Brienne had been pleased that Petyr thought her the ugly one; at least he had never put her on a crash diet in order to rectify her "tree trunk thighs".

Given that Petyr was clearly still detained on the tour bus, Daenerys was able to eat her peach in peace. The gods were not so kind to Brienne, however, as at that moment Jaime Lannister made himself known in the artiste's bar, pushing past Margaery and Sansa to get into the room first. As usual, his golden hair spiralled down to his shoulders - his muscular, solid shoulders - and he didn't have a shirt on. While some might find such a sight _sexy_ \- indeed, her stupid teenage self had - it just put Brienne's back up.

"Wench, why are you scowling?"

If she wasn't scowling before, she was now. "I'm not."

"Yes, you are," he said, amused. "Why the long face?"

"Because you are talking to me."

"Oh," he smirked as he flopped down on one of the sofas opposite. His hand jumped to his hair, swimming through his curls. "Is that not allowed?"

She shook her head. "No, especially when you call me wench."

"Why? You _are_ a wench."

Brienne had hated that nickname from the moment he had given it to her - it was designed to wound and point out that she was different from the other four members of the band, who were _believable_ maids - so her scowl turned a grimace. Jaime just laughed, strangely warm.

"Smile, wench. And then I might find some inspiration in your eyes."

Frowning, Brienne appraised Jaime. The first time she had met him, Jaime had behaved abominably, so Brienne had wasted little time on him since. Nevertheless, Jaime seemed to enjoy needling at her, getting below her skin and opening wounds. Therefore, although she did not have a cutting tongue, Brienne always tried to get back at him. She didn't like losing. 

"If you do, please come up with a with a rhyme better than _smiles_ and _miles,_ " she snapped. "I wouldn't want my name attached to such unimaginative rubbish."

Jaime flushed, his smug grin dropping from his face. "You... I..."

"Ladies and gentlemen, if I can have your attention."

Turning her head to the sound of the voice, Brienne found herself looking at their manager, Petyr Baelish. He was accompanied by a man with grey hair who it took Brienne a few moments to recognise. It was Kevan Lannister, Jaime's uncle and one of the executives from _Lion Records._ A cold anxiety crept up Brienne's spine. Tywin rarely sent one of his representatives out to talk to the bands unless it was something serious.

Petyr and Kevan were followed into the artiste's lounge by the last few members of _Kingsguard,_ Sandor Clegane the tour manager, and Margaery and Sansa, who were huddled together whispering. Brienne had noticed them together more often recently, but their loud giggling had subsided with the icy atmosphere that Petyr and Kevan had ushered into the room. They went to sit around one of the tables occupied by Arthur Dayne and Barristan Selmy, while Sandor took the seat next to Jaime.

"What's going on, Petyr?" asked Asha, narrowing her eyes in suspicion as she flicked them between Petyr and Kevan. "Tywin never sends in the big guns unless he's planning to shoot someone."

Petyr's lips quirked in an echo of a smile. "We all need to talk, that's all."

"Can't it wait till after the show?" asked Arthur lazily from his seat on the other side of the room. "We are already late to set up."

"It can't, I'm afraid," said Kevan grimly. There was something in his eyes that foretold bad things. "Would everyone take a seat? This is serious business."

At Kevan's abrupt tone, the mood in the room changed; Lewyn stopped trying to get the water cooler to work, Margaery and Sansa stopped whispering, and Jaime picked up an apple from the fruit bowl in order to take a bite. In made him look like a villain in a movie - what with his pretty face and haughty demeanour - a villain who Brienne desperately wanted to punch in the face.

 _Bastard,_ she thought, as he gave her another teasing smile in between bites of the apple.

In spite of the chilly atmosphere, everyone complied with Kevan's wishes - even Sandor, who was usually quite the contrarian - and sat down. Brienne knew it was not due to respect for Kevan, but for the man who sat behind him. Tywin Lannister basically ran the music industry single-handedly, and everyone knew he should never be crossed. Revelling in this unseen power, Petyr and Kevan watched as the members of two of the most famous bands in the world trembled in front of them.

"What is this about, Petyr?" asked Margaery eventually, when the silence had gone on long enough.

Petyr and Kevan exchanged a glance, it seemed to say, "do you want to tell them, or shall I?" Wordlessly, they eventually settled on Kevan, who reached into his jacket and pulled out a copy of a local Norvosi newspaper, throwing it onto the table next to the fruit bowl. Given the unfamiliar font, it took a few seconds for Brienne to make out the headline, but when she did, her stomach sank.

 _KINGSGUARD_ MANAGER AERYS TARGARYEN PAID OFF SEXUAL ASSAULT ACCUSERS FOR DECADES

Daenerys' peach went tumbling to the floor.

* * *

**Now**

"Get that down you," said Asha, putting a garish looking cocktail down in front of Brienne. When Brienne pulled a sceptical expression, Asha laughed heartily. "Theon says they're good."

"And what does Theon know about it?" asked Brienne, raising the drink to her lips and giving it a suspicious sniff.

"He's been learning how to make cocktails for the restaurant," replied Asha with a shrug as she took her seat opposite Brienne. "We are expanding our drinks menu. A gastro pub can't survive on its Beef Bourguignon alone."

Brienne smiled and took the tiniest sip of the cocktail. Despite its outlandish appearance and little cocktail umbrella, it was pretty good. " _The Kraken_ is doing well though, isn't it? You are not regretting your choice?"

At Brienne's question, Asha smiled wistfully in that way she was wont to do - challenging and teasing, but also strangely contemplative. "I don't know," she said, looking down at her drink. "What are regrets, anyway, other than dreams without an end?"

Asha's philosophical answer slightly surprised Brienne, given that her friend was usually intensely practical. Like Brienne, after the end of _Maidenly,_ Asha had decided to retreat into obscurity. Where Sansa, Margaery, and Daenerys had all clung onto their starlight, Asha had decided to open a pub in King's Landing with her brother Theon, and it had become moderately successful. With her devotion to burgers and beer, Asha had found something like contentment at _The Kraken,_ and was always within reach when Brienne needed a friend.

"I could regret, if I wanted. It would be so easy to imagine that, if I had stayed in the industry, I could be a big star now... but we both know it wouldn't have worked. Petyr made it very clear to you and me which type of women make it in the business. It is the _Cute Maids_ of the world, not the _Viking Maid_."

"Or the _Forever Maid_ ," added Brienne wryly.

Asha raised her own glass at the evocation of Brienne's _Maidenly_ name. "And Cheers to that!"

As they clinked their glasses together, the door that led out to _The Kraken's_ main seating area opened. Asha had arranged for them to sit in the private backroom, so it was no surprise that the guest was Theon - wearing a _Direwolves_ apron - come bearing garlic bread.

"Hey, Brienne," he smiled, putting the food down on the table. It smelt so good that it made her stomach rumble aloud. He laughed casually.

"Hey, Theon," Brienne replied, trying not to blush. Theon had an easy handsomeness, the type that she found hard to resist. "How are you?"

"Good. I'm working on expanding the menu."

"Asha told me." Her stomach rumbling, Brienne grabbed a slice of bread and took a bite. Due to the seasoning Theon had used, it was delicious. "Is it just because you want to try something new? Or was nobody buying the old one?"

"Asha's handing over more responsibility to me," said Theon proudly, even as Asha went a little pale, "after what Margaery and Sansa told her..."

Before Theon could finish his sentence, the door to the private backroom swung open once again, this time heralding the entrance of Daenerys Targaryen. Having just got off the plane at King's Landing airport direct from Essos, she was wearing a white linen jumpsuit and an enormous pair of sunglasses, looking every inch the superstar.

"Dany!" smiled Asha, getting to her feet in order to hug her old friend. "Theon and I were having bets on whether you would beat Margaery and Sansa, and I won!"

"You should never doubt me Theon," said Daenerys as she hugged Asha. "I always win."

Asha laughed. "You should have seen the way Daenerys put an end to the Great Fruit Fight at the Norvosi Stadium, Theon. It was majestic."

"Near legendary," agreed Daenerys, flicking her hair over her shoulder in a kind of mock pride.

Brienne fake laughed - _ha ha ha_ \- and took another bite of garlic bread. "You know, if you had just let me finish, I could have taken him. There was a melon _right there_ , and--"

" _One_ , it was a grapefruit," said Daenerys, holding up her perfectly manicured hand in order to count, "and _two,_ I don't think you yeeting any more fruit at Jaime Lannister's head to defend my honour would have done anyone any good."

"Might have done me some good," replied Brienne with a shrug, before abandoning her garlic bread to go and hug Daenerys. "You all know I think Jaime Lannister is a toad. He's such a bastard, and I..."

"Oh god, no Jaime Lannister talk now," said Daenerys, from her position smushed against Brienne's shoulder. "In fact, no _men_ talk."

"Hey, I'm a man!" cried Theon.

"You are just here to make the cocktails," said Asha, as Brienne and Daenerys pulled out of the hug. "And I agree on the no _men_ talk. Qarl has been a right sap recently, and I'm seriously thinking of dumping the poor boy."

"Join the club, Daario's on the way out too. I'm sure I can find another hot underwear model to replace him before the month is out."

Theon tittered and folded his arms across his chest. "And even though you two are thinking of dumping your boyfriends, we'll still hear about Jaime Lannister more than anyone else. Brienne never shuts up about him."

As Daenerys and Asha chuckled in agreement, Brienne felt herself going red. "I _don't_ talk about Jaime Lannister loads! It was Asha who brought the Great Fruit Fight, and surely when we moan about men, I whinge about _Hyle_ more than anyone else."

"Oh, come on, Brienne," grinned Asha, "we all know that even though Hyle cheated on you and was an all-around douchebag, he pales into comparison for your hatred for Jaime Lannister."

Although she was loath to admit it, even the mention of his name made Brienne see red. Once again, she was that teenage girl desperate to meet her idol, waiting for a door to open and all her dreams to come true. Unfortunately, it had not been a rock god she had seen on the other side of the door, but a vain, conceited peacock who cared for nothing but his girlfriend's attention.

Puffing herself up, Brienne went on the attack. "You've got to admit Jaime Lannister is a complete and utter..."

"Already talking about Jaime Lannister, are we?" came a voice from the door.

As one, Brienne, Asha, Daenerys, and Theon turned to the sound to see Margaery, Sansa, and Sansa's daughter Lyarra had finally arrived. While Margaery was decked out in her best designer gear, Sansa had clearly just come back from the school run, as her hair was all over the place and Lyarra was still in her school uniform. However, she was clearly in on whatever Margaery's latest devious plan was - and she _always_ had a devious plan - as the pair of them exchanged a smirk.

Suspicious, Brienne raised an eyebrow. "Why would we be _already_ talking about Jaime Lannister? Is it something you expected?"

"Perhaps," smiled Margaery, "he's sent us a proposition, after all."

For a moment, Brienne wondered whether Margaery was joking, but she quickly realised that she wasn't with the sweetness of her smile and Asha's sudden nervousness. "He's sent us a proposition?" asked Brienne, feeling a little like a gawping goldfish. "What is this proposition?"

Margaery looked at Sansa perhaps realising that, as the most sensitive of the group, she was the best to break the news. Sansa quickly obliged.

"He's asking if we would want to reform _Maidenly..._ and take him on as our manager."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! In the dark days of 2020 volume 2, a comment or kudos would be a nice seratonin hit.


	3. Representations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the Maidenly gang reunited, the girls discuss the future of the band...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Thank you for coming back!
> 
> This (short) chapter has moments of weirdness (and is an exercise in playing with syntax), as well as a brief look into the lives of the band members, so I hope you enjoy! There is a tiny bit of dialogue stealing from The Good Night here, but only like two lines.
> 
> WARNING: There is a brief mention of death by drug overdose in this chapter.

"Oh! Is that garlic bread?" cried Lyarra, charging through the stilted silence caused by Margaery and Sansa's announcement in order to take her seat at the table. "Have you put chilli powder in it like you usually do, Theon?"

Not looking at Sansa's little girl, Theon answered, his voice monotone as he skated across the frigid atmosphere suddenly present in the room. "No, I haven't, Ly. It's behind the counter if you want some."

Lyarra made a happy little sound before picking up the garlic bread and taking a bite. For a few seconds, her chomping was the only sound in the room. While Margaery was smiling excitedly and Sansa's expression was neutral-verging-on-positive, everybody else did not seem so hopeful; Asha was biting her lip, Theon suddenly found something very interesting to look at on the floor, and Daenerys had gone a little pale. None of their reactions were as dramatic as Brienne's, however.

"I'm sorry... _what?"_

As her legs suddenly felt a little weak, Brienne staggered back and fell into one of the chairs, letting it rock back dangerously. It took her a moment to catch her breath. Margaery and Sansa couldn't be serious, could they? _Jaime Lannister_ would make an appalling manager for any band - given his supreme arrogance, his overexaggerated talent, and his love of the marching powder - let alone _Maidenly,_ one he had a long standing animus against.

Unfortunately, Margaery and Sansa didn't seem to see it that way. Tossing her expensively coiffed hair over her shoulder, Margaery came and joined Brienne at the table, reaching out to grab her hands as she did so. Margaery had always been a tactile person, and even though she liked her friend, Brienne felt herself recoiling from her as the spectre of Jaime Lannister hovered over their heads.

"You know I have just finishing presenting _Westeros' Got Talent_ for WTV," said Margaery, speaking slowly in an attempt to build up the suspense. When Brienne did not take the bait, she continued, a little ruffled. "Well, the representatives from the record companies hang around like vultures after the auditions and try to snap up any fresh, young, eager talent. Jaime Lannister was there every single week."

Brienne went to answer, outraged - was Margaery trying to imply that Jaime Lannister was a _predator_ on top of being an awful arrogant arse? - but Daenerys beat her to it.

"And you _spoke_ to him?" she said, one hand pressed to her chest, her face pale and drained. "You _spoke_ to Jaime Lannister?"

Margaery's smile did not dim at Daenerys' incredulity. "Of course I did. We spent _years_ on tour with him. It was only polite to say hello."

"But you did more than say hello," interrupted Brienne. She could not believe Margaery was being so casual about this. "You talked to him about reforming _Maidenly_ without consulting any of us."

A beat of silence followed - pointed and palpable and painful - in which Sansa glanced at Margaery, Margaery bit her lip, and Asha looked down at the floor, nervously shifting her feet. Brienne jumped on her weakness at once. "Asha! Did you _know_ about this?"

There was another pause in which Asha folded her arms, looking more awkward than Brienne had ever seen her. "Margaery mentioned it to me, yeah," she said sheepishly, "but I didn't want to bring it up until we could talk it through, until we were all..."

"Talk it through? Why do you think either Brienne or I would want to talk this through?" Daenerys was almost breathing fire as she paced around in agitated circles - smaller then bigger then smaller then bigger - looking as if she was a dragon hunting down her prey. Angry Daenerys had always been quite scary, so Asha and Sansa shrank away, even as Margaery tried to keep her head held high. "Not only did Jaime _ruin_ my father, but Brienne has always _hated_ him."

"For some reason none of us can quite fathom..." said Sansa quietly, but Daenerys just talked over her.

"My father was blackballed by the industry because of the _stories_ Jaime spread around about his treatment of Elia Martell, and you all know _that_ was the reason he ended up... ended up..." She dropped her voice, so Lyarra wouldn't hear over her chomping. "...taking those barbiturates that he overdosed on."

"Daenerys," said Margaery gently, "what happened to your father was a tragedy, but you know that those _stories_ Jaime spread around were true."

Although she had always been strong, at the mention of her father's crimes, Daenerys looked strangely vulnerable, so Brienne was up with her arm around her friend's shoulders in a heartbeat. "Jaime could have done things better than the way he did, though. He could have given Daenerys warning. They _were_ colleagues at the team, after all."

Margaery rolled her eyes. "Brienne, just because you don't like Jaime, it doesn't mean you have to condemn every single thing he's ever done!"

"I'm not!" she said, squeezing Daenerys' shoulders protectively. "It's just you are seriously suggesting that we get _Maidenly_ back together and then work with Jaime Lannister of all people. Why on earth would we want to do that? Everyone here moved on from _Maidenly_ years ago!"

There was another silence in which Daenerys shuffled out of Brienne's grasp. The lack of answers said more than words ever could.

"Oh gods, have you guys seriously been thinking of getting _Maidenly_ back together?"

"A little," said Margaery, a smile blooming on her face. "The TV gigs are getting harder and harder to secure now, and I was telling Sansa that maybe a relaunch of the band that made me famous would be the kick my career needs."

Sansa nodded in agreement. "And ever since Sandor and I divorced, I've been thinking I need something new and exciting in my life again, and the last time I truly felt that was when I was in _Maidenly."_

"The solo career hasn't been as successful as I was hoping," admitted Daenerys begrudgingly. "There's always someone younger and prettier to compete with. When Margaery and Sansa suggested it to me, I thought reforming the band sounded like a good idea. Nostalgia has a pretty powerful appeal."

Shocked at her friends' united front, Brienne turned to Asha, the bandmate who had been her one ally in King's Landing the last few years. "And you? Have you already made up your mind about this?"

"Well... I..." Asha took a deep breath, then looked straight into Brienne's eyes. It was quite disarming. "If I am honest, I feel as if I have achieved all I can here at _The Kraken._ It's been a blast, but I think it is time to move on. Theon has been wanting to take more control recently, and it seemed the perfect time to step away."

"But why would you want to go back?" spluttered Brienne, barely able to compute Asha's reasoning. "You know that Petyr used to be an absolute arsehole to the _Viking Maid_ and the _Forever Maid_ because we weren't _conventionally attractive_ \- as he used to put it - and the less said about the online trolls the better. You used to say the pressure was intolerable."

Asha shrugged, then looked slightly wistful. "I miss it, Brienne. I miss the excitement of being on tour and thousands of people screaming my name. I miss the recording studio and the cool clothes we got to wear and the feeling that people really loved us... and most of all, I miss the music. I miss our music."

" _My_ music," corrected Brienne sharply. "If you remember rightly, it was _my_ song that made us famous. _My Perfect Knight_ topped the charts for an entire summer and we never had another hit like it."

The others made agreeing sounds as Margaery stepped forward, standing in such a way it was as if she was enveloping them all in a conspiracy. "We all know you haven't stopped writing, Brienne, and that you have another song in you."

Brienne blushed, embarrassed. She _did_ still write - in the few hours she got when she was not composing cringy jingles for Randyll Tarly - but she had not created anything as good as _My Perfect Knight_ in years. There had been something so poetic in the way she had idolised Jaime Lannister from afar, but once she knew the truth of his character, the shadows had drawn in and her inspiration had gone.

"I don't have another hit..."

"Yes, you do, stop talking yourself down!" smiled Sansa. "And, anyway, Jaime has said he will be happy to help you with any song writing should you need it."

"I don't need any help from him! Gods, we'd kill each other before we had the chance to write anything good!"

"I'm not sure about that. We all know Jaime wrote some bangers while in _Kingsguard_. Maybe getting a kick up the arse from someone like him is exactly what you need," said Margaery, looking so pleased with herself that it was almost smug.

With Margaery, Sansa, and Asha seemingly in unison, Brienne began to pace round the room, her footsteps echoing off the tiles. Daenerys was clearly teetering on the edge, not sure of which way to turn, so Brienne rounded on her. "And what about you? Are you going to just agree to work with Jaime Lannister if it gives you the chance to be in _Maidenly_ again?"

Daenerys looked at Brienne, her violet eyes bright. She had loved her days in _Maidenly,_ Brienne knew, but she wasn't sure if Daenerys was mercenary enough to work with Jaime Lannister - the man who had brought down her father - in order to chase a half-forgotten dream.

"You were just saying the other day that you wished it were possible, Dany," said Margaery, "if only we could all be together again. _Maidenly,_ forever."

Daenerys bit her lip, weighing up Margaery's words. "But _Jaime Lannister._ Can there be anyone worse as a potential manager?"

"Well, there's only one way to find out," Margaery said, triumph dawning in her eyes.

"What?"

"We go and talk to him."

Brienne rolled her eyes. She had not seen Jaime Lannister in _years_ and was firm in her intention to keep it that way. Although Jaime had kept a low profile since the end of _Kingsguard_ , whenever Brienne turned on the Entertainment News she often saw him skulking at the back of events in a dark suit, swirling a martini in his glass as if he were someone special. In all the years since she had seen him, since she had last thrown fruit at his head, Brienne had never once wished for a reunion.

Daenerys, however, seemed to be teetering on the edge.

"What would he have to say for himself?"

Margaery shrugged. "I don't know, but he did offer to meet us tomorrow in his office on the other side of town to talk things through."

"Tomorrow!" squawked Brienne. "I don't know..."

"It wouldn't be anything final," said Margaery, holding her hands up, "but it would be an opportunity for us all to talk things through... think about what we all want."

"I _know_ what I want!" skulked Brienne, unhappy that everyone else seemed to be moving further and further away from her. "And it is to _never_ see Jaime Lannister again."

"But it's not writing jingles for Randyll Tarly, right?" Brienne turned her head to the sound of the voice, surprised to find that Theon had entered into the conversation.

"I don't know what you are saying," Brienne lied.

Theon smiled at her gently, as if he understood. "You know that you hate your job writing jingles and going back to _Maidenly_ would enable you to compose proper music again. I think you should at least give it some thought. Talk to Jaime at least. You never know; you might like what he has to say."

Brienne folded her arms defensively, irritated that Theon had found a chink in her armour. Glancing at Daenerys, she hoped to find some support, but to her disappointment, she discovered that the former _Cute Maid_ seemed swayed.

"Alright, I will meet with him," Daenerys said, standing up to her full height, "but I won't agree to anything else."

Margaery nodded. "Fair enough. And you Brienne?"

The other four members of _Maidenly_ looked at her so intently, it almost felt as if they were back at the beginning, excitedly strumming out the first few chords of _My Perfect Knight._ At the sight of such hope, her old idealism welled inside her, and Brienne found herself caving to her friends' demands.

"Okay, I'll come to the bloody meeting," she said with a sigh, "but that is the _only_ thing I am promising."

* * *

Once Brienne had finally agreed to meet Jaime Lannister, the former members of _Maidenly_ managed to move on to other things. Along with Lyarra and Theon, they spent the rest of the evening just eating _The Kraken's_ brilliant food, but Brienne could not keep the thought of her old _Kingsguard_ adversary out of her head.

 _Will he forgive me for throwing a melon at him?_ she wondered.

_Do I even care?_

Annoyingly, it seemed she cared a _little,_ as all the bad times she had shared with Jaime Lannister danced around her mind as she walked home, taunting her and teasing her with the nasty future bringing him back into her life could unfurl.

_Will he make fun of me? Even now._

By the time she got home, Brienne was so antsy about the thought of seeing Jaime again that she decided the best thing to do was to have a shower and go to bed; there was no space for anxiety while lost in the world of sleep. Tucking herself under her duvet, she squeezes her eyes shut and tries to sleep. She didn't want to think about Jaime Lannister anymore; she doesn't, she doesn't, she...

_There's a house on a hill, all glass and minimalism, just a short walk from the beach. Brienne raises her head to look at it, while shielding her eyes from the sun. She doesn't know where paradise is, but she imagines it looks like this._

_She hears the gentle roll of the waves in the distance - hush, hush - but keeps her focus on the house, lulled into the entrancing beat of one foot being put in front of the other as she climbs the meandering path up the hill._

_Is this heaven?_

_Is she dead?_

_When she reaches the house, she finds the door open, as if someone is waiting for her. Distantly, she hears music. Someone is playing piano. It is her song, My Perfect Knight, but there is a delicacy to the way they press the keys that makes it sound more ethereal than it ever did it the waking world._

_Brienne understands the reason why when she sees the pianist. He is a tall, clean shaven man with coal black hair, strong broad shoulders, and laughing blue-green eyes that hold the world. She feels warm the instant she lays eyes on him, marvelling at the perfect fit of his tuxedo. She feels underdressed._

_"I've taken off my watch," she says, momentarily looking down at bare wrist, "so you are supposed to take off your street shoes."_

_The man smiles. Brienne feels as if her blood is made of molten gold._

_"Somebody told me that wearing pyjamas would be okay." She didn't know who; in the light of the man's blue eyes, she can't really remember anything anymore._

_"I think you look perfect," he says, moving forward without walking._

_Brienne blushes. She had not realised it was so difficult speaking to angels._

_"Thank you."_

_"My pleasure."_

_For a moment, there is silence as Brienne stares into the man's eyes. She wants to ask him his name, but she fears that someone as wonderful as him cannot have a human name. Therefore, instead of talking, she contents herself with getting lost in the palette of his eyes._

_"Brienne?"_

_"Yes?"_

_"If you pay close attention and close your eyes, you can feel my heartbeat in my lips."_

_They are so close that it is easy for Brienne to lift up her hand and press two fingers against his lips. He smiles._

_"Not like that."_

_She blushes at the implication. "Then how?"_

_His smile shines like the sun, before he tilts his head, leaning forward in order to--_

Brienne opened her eyes. Soft morning light was breaking through into her room through the gap in her curtains, and her phone buzzed. Rolling over, she unplugged it from her charger and checked her messages. 

_Margaery:_ Wake up sleepy head! Today's the day we meet our new manager!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> I promise, Jaime Lannister is turning up next chapter!


	4. The Manager

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maidenly go and meet their new manager...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it *is* technically Monday where I am, so I'm posting now.
> 
> I am sorry this has been a few weeks. Life just pounced on me, and then I wrote something for the smut swap so... my other fics were derailed. I hope to get back into the Monday-weekly swing of it from now on.
> 
> There are brief mentions of historic sexual assault in this chapter, but they are very, very minor. You have been warned.

**Now**

"I can't believe we agreed to this," said Daenerys grumpily as she and Brienne entered the non-descript building in central King's Landing that contained Jaime Lannister's office. "I swore I would never work with him again. I _swore_... Brienne, are you even listening?"

"Mmm? Sorry? What?"

Daenerys sighed. "I'm talking about Jaime Lannister and how I swore not to work with him ever again. You know... the thing we both agree on?"

"Oh yeah... that... I'm listening. I promise."

Daenerys narrowed her eyes suspiciously at Brienne's distant answer, but carried on talking regardless, even as they walked into the office building and headed for the lifts. Well-dressed people milled around them - well-dressed people that _might_ even work for Jaime - but Daenerys didn't bother keeping her voice down. Entirely uncaring, she projected her complaints across the entire tiled foyer, not giving a damn who heard.

"I know what my dad did was bad - don't get me wrong - but it was the way Jaime did it, you know? He could at least have forewarned me."

"Uh huh."

"And the less said about what an arrogant asshat he was on tour, the better. Do you remember the way he used to lounge about the tour bus like a bloody Archon of Valryia? Do you remember...?"

Although she had promised she was listening, in truth, Brienne really wasn't. Instead, her mind was on her dream and the mysterious man with his heartbeat in his lips. Ever since she had woken up, Brienne had not been able to think of anything else but what might have happened if she had stayed asleep just a few moments longer. Her sex life had never been very exciting - Hyle hadn't been a stud, exactly - so the prospect of a thrilling sex dream was enough to enliven everything up, especially with someone so beautiful as the mysterious man had been. A talented musician who spoke in poetry not prose, and...

"I thought you said you were listening to me!" squawked Daenerys as they approached the lift, grabbing Brienne's arm to get her attention. "What is going on with you today?"

Brienne shook her head, trying to refocus on the here-and-now, and not the texture of the dream man's soft skin. "I'm sorry, I'm just feeling stressed about this whole thing. Remember how awful Baelish was on our first meeting with him as _Maidenly?"_

"No," replied Daenerys. "I don't."

Brienne sighed. Of course Daenerys didn't remember. Baelish had never been horrible to the _attractive_ members of _Maidenly,_ and she couldn't imagine Jaime Lannister being much better.

"Well, I do, and he was awful. I don't want a repeat of that."

As the past and present loomed over them, Daenerys squeezed Brienne's arm firmly and fixed her with a comforting, but slightly intense, gaze. "There won't be a repeat of that," she said. "Margaery, Sansa, Asha, and I won't put up with any bullshit from Jaime towards you or anyone else, whatever we decide in terms of reforming _Maidenly._ We are in this together, whatever happens."

Brienne nodded, even as her mind went back to that first meeting with their old manager.

_Whatever happens..._

They found the rest of the band up on the third floor, waiting outside Jaime's office. Margaery and Sansa both looked as smart as two pins in dresses ripped straight from a fashion template, while Asha was wearing her usual more grungy attire.

"Ah! You are here!" said Margaery, as if it were a total surprise. "I was worried you had both bailed."

Daenerys gave her a tight smile. "I thought about it, don't you worry."

"But you _are_ here, _"_ said Sansa quickly, to avoid confrontation. "And that is wonderful."

As Daenerys did not look entirely convinced that this whole situation _was_ wonderful, Brienne decided to take over the conversation in order to get off the topic of _Maidenly's_ impending fate. "How is everyone today?"

"It's been a bit of a stressful morning," sighs Sansa. "I dropped Lyarra off at Sandor's before I came here, and we had an argument because I was five minutes early. Gods, that man can be so grumpy sometimes."

"There's a reason why you divorced," replied Margaery, smiling at Sansa with a supreme sense of knowing. However, Sansa did not return Margaery's warm gaze and only answered with silence, which Margaery tried to break by reaching out to take her hand.

As their fingers brushed, everybody else pretended they didn't know the _real_ reason Sansa and Sandor had got divorced.

As Brienne began to hum to herself, Asha coughed loudly, causing Sansa to spring away from Margaery. Margaery's gaze dropped to the floor as Asha started detailing her morning, clearly wanting to save everyone from circling around the open secret. "I left Theon at _The Kraken_ managing everything, but he was in a bad mood, so..."

Yet before Asha could finish her story, the door to Jaime's office opened, revealing a young man with a mop of blond hair who could only be one of the teeming millions of Lannister cousins. His green eyes and blond beard served as a precursor to his abominable relative who was waiting just behind the door, so Brienne found herself scowling.

"Jaime is ready to see you now," he said, holding the door open.

He wore that dazzling Lannister smile that had duped Brienne so many times in the past, even as he beckoned her towards her next big adventure.

There was a beat of silence as the members of _Maidenly_ stole glances at one another.

Only Margaery had the strength - or foolhardiness - to break the ice.

"Well, shall we go in?"

* * *

**Then**

Petyr Baelish smiled broadly the first time he met the members of _Maidenly_ in his plush office in central King's Landing. It was a soft grin, both warm and strangely comforting.

"Sit, sit," he insisted, as his assistant went to close the door behind them.

Like marionettes, the members of _Maidenly_ had gone to obey, pulled into Petyr's orbit without even knowing. Looking back, Brienne should have realised that Petyr enjoyed the feel of having other people under his power, as the second he realised his assistant was leaving his circle of control, Petyr held up his hand to stop him.

"Lothor, wait one moment!"

"Yes, sir?"

"Can you please bring these lovely ladies a lemonade? It is a hot day."

On one hand the lemonade was a courtesy, on another a bargained kindess. After giving him a deferential nod, Lothor nodded and left the room, leaving _Maidenly_ with their potential new manager. Petyr smiled once more, sticky sweet.

Well, he smiled at Sansa.

"I have listened to _My Perfect Knight,_ and I must say I am very impressed," he began, as the signet ring on his little finger glinted in the light. Although she was too far away to make out the sigil, Brienne could see how proud Petyr was of it by the wait it shone. "You girls clearly have something special."

That small piece of praise set Margaery and Daenerys exchanging excited glances, and Asha leaning back proudly in her chair. In spite of her friends' palpable anticipation, Brienne felt as if she were skating on thin ice. She did not trust easy smiles like that belonging to Baelish. Connington had often smiled that way right before saying something cruel, something that cut bone deep. It made her want to tread carefully.

"Something?" asked Sansa, her right eyebrow forming into the perfect arch. "And what is that?"

With Sansa engaged, Petyr's smile grew larger. "You know, Sansa, I knew your mother at university. She always asked insightful questions too."

There was something in that statement, almost suggestive, that made Sansa shrink into herself. Looking down at her hands, she blushed a pretty pink, which only made Petyr smile wider. An unease shivered under Brienne's skin. She did not know why, but there was something about Petyr's incessant smiles that put her on edge, and she felt as if she needed to intervene to protect Sansa.

"And the answer to this insightful question?" asked Brienne, folding her arms. "What is this _something_ that _Maidenly_ supposedly in possession of?"

Quite reluctantly, Petyr pulled his gaze away from Sansa and turned his eyes to Brienne. She couldn't help but notice a momentary coldness, which was almost instantly replaced by yet another saccharine smile. Nevertheless, Brienne had seen through the chink in his armour in the brief moment when he dropped his guard, and grew resolved to be vigilant.

"That X Factor," he began. "That _je ne sais quoi._ That shining unnameable thing that will make you all stars."

The bright lights of fame shone in the distance.

"Stars?" perked up Margaery. "Really? You think that could happen?"

Brienne was immensely glad when Petyr took his eyes off her in order to answer Margaery's question. Somehow, his smile seemed more authentic when he looked at her. "Of course I think that could happen," he said, his voice honey sweet. "With a few... _adjustments_... to the band, you could be the next big thing."

"Like what?"

"Well... an audience is likely to lock onto a band more firmly, and start forming those para-social relationships we so desperately need to make money, if each member of the band has a clearly defined personality."

Asha narrowed her eyes. "In what way?"

"With you girls it would be easy," replied Petyr. The way he said _girls_ made Brienne feel itchy. "As _Maidenly,_ it would be easy to give you all a characteristic. Daenerys could be the _Cute Maid_ ; with that button nose and those big violet eyes, it would be an easy sell. We could stick a pair of glasses on Margaery and she could be the _Clever Maid_... the bookish one who is always reading. And Sansa, of course, could be the _Pretty Maid._ Her characteristic is written all over her face."

Once again, Sansa looked a little put out by Petyr's words, but before Brienne could defend her, Asha picked up where Baelish had left off.

"Isn't it a little cheesy if we are all given a cutesy little nickname, though? _My Perfect Knight_ is not some crappy pop song, but something we all put our hearts and souls into. Surely we don't want to cheapen that?"

Petyr's responding smile seemed a little sharp. "This is not about undermining your music, but enhancing it. Audiences are stupid. They need _help_ to become invested in a new band and given a set of narratives around which to build their perceptions of each of you and your music. We're just helping them along with easy, unforgettable adjectives."

Asha did not seem particularly persuaded by that line of argument, so folded her arms across her chest and tilted her head to the side, ready to take Baelish on. "But--"

"Asha, we've got to listen to what Petyr says," interjected Margaery, her tone a little strained. "He's the one with the knowledge on how we actually make _Maidenly_ work. I know I am willing to put on a pair of specs I don't really need if it means we get _famous._ It is only a costume, at the end of the day... a persona. It's not real."

Although Brienne agreed with Asha, she could see from their expressions that Sansa and Daenerys were more in line with Petyr's line of thinking, so kept silent, even as Margaery went to push Baelish for more information.

"Is there anything else we can do to make ourselves as appealing as possible to our potential audience?"

Once again, Asha interrupted, letting out a gruff laugh. "Marge, it sounds like you are willing to prostitute yourself!"

"I'm not!" Margaery snapped back, flushing in embarrassment. "I just think if we are going to make a go of this, we have to do as much as we can to ensure it works. I don't want to be number ten in the charts, I want to be the _top."_

That blatant display of ambition from Margaery was the first thing that seemed to make Petyr truly smile, as he leant back in his chair and surveyed the new _Clever Maid_ with a type of subtle appreciation.

"If you want to be the top of the charts, Margaery, there is something else you should consider."

"What?"

"Well," said Petyr softly, leaning forward. "Five-piece bands went out last year. If you were a four, you would be so much more marketable. More successful."

At that cryptic statement, Petyr turned his gaze from Margaery back to Brienne, as the familiar coldness settled in his eyes.

It didn't take a genius to work out what he was trying to say.

* * *

**Now**

Jaime's office was not the richly decorated palace that Brienne expected it to be. Maybe it was because he was a Lannister, but Brienne had been anticipating mahogany, silk, and a gently burning fire, staffed by a harried looking butler. Instead, the room was quite different from her imaginings. The office was light and airy, the generic minimalism given life by the bunch of daffodils sitting on his desk. It surprised Brienne; she had always pictured him as a man of darker tastes.

Unlike Baelish years previously, Jaime himself was not waiting for _Maidenly_ at his desk like a sickly sweet Child Catcher offering out sweets, but standing over by the window gazing outside at the particularly beautiful morning unfurling outside. Given the impressive view, Brienne wondered if he liked to pretend that he ruled an empire - just like his father did - and was taking the time to survey his kingdom.

Demonstrating his arrogance, Jaime did not turn around, even as the five members of _Maidenly_ sat down in the chairs that had been provided for them. He made them wait. Part of Brienne thought it was because he wanted to show off his new suit - expensive, designer, and closely fitted to his body - and all the other ways he was subtly different to how he had been years earlier. Apart from the very obvious missing hand (which was hidden by a complicated looking prosthetic), the long blonde locks that Jaime had previously cultivated were now gone in favour of a shorter, sleeker style. He had also done away with the baby-faced clean shaven look. Now, he sported a close cropped beard, the perfect length for a woman to run her fingers through as she kissed him.

Any theoretical woman... not Brienne herself, of course.

It was only when Margaery made a simpering little _ahem_ that Jaime turned away from the window and looked back at his new money-maker. In spite of herself, Brienne swallowed heavily. She had known for years what a terrible person Jaime Lannister was, but still she cannot help but feel the familiar pull of his body and the consequent reddening of her cheeks.

 _Gods, he's still hot,_ she thought bitterly. _And I hate him for it._

As a mischievous smile curled across Jaime's lips, his eyes locked with Brienne. She felt as if she were trapped in a hunter's gaze.

"Brienne."

"Jaime."

"Long time, no see."

There was something warm in his eyes, but she did not think anything about their relationship warranted _warmth._ Drawing up to her full height, she prepared for the attack. "The last time we met, I think I was planning on throwing a melon at your head."

Jaime laughed huskily, then crossed the room to sit in the chair behind the desk. He did not take his eyes off Brienne for even a moment.

"If I remember rightly, it was a grapefruit."

"You _don't_ remember rightly," snapped Brienne. "It was a melon. I wanted to do some serious damage."

As Asha scoffed with amusement beside her, Margaery coughed loudly again, seemingly wanting to smooth over these already tense circumstances. "Jaime, I'm so glad you were able to meet us today. Several members of _Maidenly_ have been thinking about reuniting, so we are really interested in hearing your--"

"Several members?" asked Jaime, his eyebrows shooting up into his hairline at his surprise. "What? You mean Brienne is not jumping at the possibility of working with me again?"

Given his infuriating smile, Brienne was about to leap in and tell him that _no_ , she wasn't interested in working with him again because he was an insufferable bastard, but Daenerys got there first.

"She's not the only one," she declared, her mouth a tight line. "In case you forgot, you _pushed my father to an early grave._ If you hadn't exposed him the way you did, he wouldn't have lost _everything,_ and he wouldn't have got on those drugs, and he wouldn't..."

"Are you trying to tell me that I shouldn't have gone public with the truth about Elia?" said Jaime quickly, all his amusement dying.

"No, I..."

"Good," he snapped back. "The press may have spent years presenting me as the young protege who cruelly betrayed his mentor, but I did the right thing. Your father repeatedly used his power to sexually assault women, and Elia was at the top of his list. Becoming the Kingslayer was a price worth paying."

"He was mentally ill. He needed help, he needed..."

Jaime cut her off, his tone emotionless, even as Daenerys' eyes began to brim with tears.

"Your father was what he was, and I did what I did. We can't change the past; I'll always be the Kingslayer, just as you will always be the Mad King's daughter. Yet we don't have to let that always define us."

After the revelations about Aerys - the King of Pop - had come to light, the rest of the tour to Essos had been cancelled, and _Maidenly_ had returned from Norvos tainted by association. Baelish had spent the next year trying to rehabilitate their image, but due to the fact that Daenerys was Aerys' daughter and _Maidenly_ had been in bed with _Kingsguard_ for so long, their reputation had never recovered. Baelish had dumped them quite unceremoniously a few months later, and after that it had been the long road to obscurity.

 _Perhaps we will all have to become the Kingslayer's whores to get back to the top,_ Brienne mused.

As Daenerys wiped tears from her eyes, Margaery once again took charge of the conversation, trying to calm everything down. "I know we haven't always been the best of friends, but I think we can both help each other. Several of us have expressed a desire to reform _Maidenly,_ even before Jaime got involved..."

"... I didn't," muttered Brienne.

"... and Jaime is now striking out on his own now he is no longer working for _Lion Records._ It can be a _I'll scratch your back, you scratch_ mine kind of deal."

Ignoring Margaery's silly idioms, Brienne snapped her head up in surprise at the piece of news embedded in her statement, only to be greeted by Jaime's expectant gaze.

"You're not working for your dad anymore?"

"No," he said softly. At the admittance, his expression became strangely intense. "My father has not always treated people in the best way. I decided it was time that he and I... parted ways."

Brienne wanted to bark that Tywin had _always_ behaved terribly, and it was _about bloody time_ that Jaime noticed, but there was something that looked almost vulnerable in Jaime's expression that made her bite her tongue.

Daenerys had no such qualms.

"Good. It's bad enough working with you. I wouldn't want to be signed with _Lion Records_ too."

Taking the insult like a champ, Jaime gave Daenerys a flinty, Lannister smile, before turning back to the group at large. "Don't worry, I wouldn't sign _Maidenly_ with _Lion Records._ My brother, his girlfriend Shae, and his friend Bronn have set up their own record company, _Casterly Music,_ and are already interested. They would want a demo, of course, but we can work that out. Brienne must have something good up her sleeve."

Surprised by the mention of her name, Brienne startled. Noticing his effect on her, Jaime's lips quirked in amusement, which only succeeded in putting her back up even further. "I haven't written anything decent for years," she admitted. "I've been working in advertising for the past few years. It's not exactly a conducive environment to writing the next big hit."

Brienne instantly regretted admitting to her lack of inspiration so publicly, as Jaime gave her another of those smiles that made her want to rip his face off. He really was too smug for his own good.

"Oh? Please tell me you wrote that jingle for the cat food company that got turned into a meme," he smirked. "The sexually suggestive purring was just _hilarious."_

Although Brienne wanted to hit back and say she was proud of all her work, the cat food advert had really been a low point, so she felt her face getting hot with embarrassment.

Jaime's eyes went very wide. "Oh god, that _was_ you! Wasn't it?"

"I... I..." His smirking was just too much to cope with. Needing to hit back, Brienne derailed the conversation entirely by jumping at the first coherent thought that came to mind. "Why would I want to write for your brother's record company, anyway? _Maidenly_ could easily go to _Manderly Music_ or _Archon._ What makes yours the best offer in town?"

Even though she had aimed to wrongfoot him, Jaime's smile did not dim, although this time it was caused less by amusement and more by the scent of opportunity. "Tyrion stopped working for my father because he was as fed up with his underhand tactics as I was. I promise you that we won't screw you over like Baelish did. I won't make you sign some contract with me that diverts all your money into my pockets. I saw enough of that shit with _Kingsguard_. I won't see it repeated."

Although there was something valiant and noble in that statement, nobody seemed to take the bait.

"Why would we trust you to be that honest?" asked Daenerys, metaphorically circling behind Brienne as support. "You don't exactly have a great track record on that front."

If Jaime was hurt by her comment, he did not show it, but simply shrugged his shoulders. "We can get the lawyers in to go over the fine print. It would just be the contract with me as your manager first - the record company comes after you have made a demo - but I have no intention to screw you over. I want to work _with_ you, not against you."

For some reason, Jaime then looked back at Brienne, his expression unreadable. It left her feeling strangely flustered - Jaime had never looked at her so intensely before - but luckily Asha came to the rescue.

"What do you have to offer us as a manager that others don't?"

"I come with my own crew," Jaime replied, turning away from Brienne. She felt strangely relieved. "Apart from Daven who does all my admin and Peck, my personal assistant, who can be relied on for anything, I also work with Arianne Martell. She is a brilliant publicist who can both put out fires and get you on the front page of the _Highgarden Gossip_ in a heartbeat. There's also Pia, who is the best stylist known to man. The gods know we need to get you all out of your cutesy girl band image and into something more mature, and Pia is just the woman to do it."

For the first time since entering the room, Margaery looked a little uncomfortable at something Jaime suggested. It didn't surprise Brienne; she knew Margaery put a lot of care into how she dressed. There wasn't a low-cut designer halter-top in King's Landing that she did not own.

"What is wrong with the way we look? Petyr told us that giving us all adjectives and a certain style would make us more attractive to our audience... more relatable..."

"And Baelish was also stealing millions of dragons from you, he was full of shit," replied Jaime curtly, which Brienne had to privately agree was a pretty good comeback. " _My Perfect Knight_ is a great song, but it is about youthful idealism and hope. I'm not saying you need to lose that positive vibe, but the music you are going to write with me will be more mature and your look needs to match that. _Maidenly_ is no longer going to be cornering the tween bop market. With me, you are going to be making real music again, not that cheap pop trash Baelish tried to corner you in your final years with him. So your look needs to be serious, just as your sound will be."

There was something in Jaime's speech that resonated with Brienne. Apart from their initial hit - _My Perfect Knight_ \- Baelish had always tried to reduce _Maidenly_ into a flat, cardboard cut-out of what they really were. Therefore, the appeal to authenticity activated a warm, aching place at the centre of Brienne's chest that she had long felt disconnected from.

She thought of Jaime as he had appeared to her when she was a teenaged girl. She thought of the man from her dream, handsome and bright.

Jaime's speech had also seemed to work on the other members of _Maidenly,_ as Margaery, Daenerys, Sansa, and Asha were all exchanging encouraging glances. Brienne had not quite prepared herself for _this,_ that Jaime Lannister might be able to persuade the five of them to get back together and make music again. The past was too heavy, their dreams in glassy shards around their feet...

 _Maybe we can try again,_ Brienne thought sentimentally. _The five of us, together._

Of course, Jaime then _had_ to go and ruin it.

"Of course, Brienne is the only one of you with _any_ sense of her own personal style as she doesn't go around as mutton dressed as lamb, so maybe Pia can style the rest of you drawing from Brienne's look. Oh... and before I forget, if we are going to do this, you are really going to have to write a decent song. Tyrion won't give us a record contract on brotherly love alone. So, I want you to split up into groups and come up with something good. I know that Brienne is the musical engine behind this band, but some of the B-side songs the rest of you wrote were _okay._ I'm sure you can come up with something semi-decent."

For the first time since entering Jaime's office, Brienne wanted to laugh, especially when she saw her bandmates' faces. However, her amusement quickly died when Jaime got up from his chair and leant on his desk, his silhouette suddenly strangely reminiscent of his father; the man who could ruin dreams with a quirk of his eyebrow.

Would Jaime be the same?

"So," he said, his green eyes fixed on Brienne as he stretched out his hand towards her. "Do we have a deal?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! As ever, I would love to hear what you think :)


	5. Truly Inspired

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their meeting with Jaime, Maidenly discuss where to go next...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! It is Monday and I have this finished! We're on a roll, peeps.

"I can't believe we just signed _Jaime Lannister_ as our manager," Daenerys sighed, before starting up her usual mantra for what felt like the hundredth time. "I swore I would never work with him again. I swore..."

"I can't believe he called us _mutton dressed as lamb,_ " huffed Margaery. She seemed determined to top Daenerys' disbelief with her own. "You know that this jacket is by _Ellaria,_ right? It's not cheap!"

Hiding her smirk behind her coffee cup, that she was drinking in a kitschy coffee shop opposite Jaime's office, Brienne raised her eyebrows. "He technically didn't call _me_ mutton dressed as lamb, just you four."

Although it felt like a mini-triumph for Brienne - the tabloids had gleefully called her the _Ugly Maid_ back in the day _,_ after all - it all came crashing down when Margaery gave her one of her knowing smiles.

"Oh yes. Jaime was overloading it on the compliments for you." She put on a silly voice in order to imitate him. " _Brienne's the only one with style, Brienne's the only one with talent._ If I didn't know any better, I'd say he has a crush on you or something."

The suggestion was so outrageous that Brienne blushed furiously, which caused the rest of her friends started laughing. "And going by that blush," smirked Asha, "I'd say that suggestion isn't totally repellent to you."

As the rest of Maidenly started to guffaw more loudly, Brienne's mouth stretched into a dissatisfied line. "It _is_ totally repellent to me," Brienne insisted. "Jaime Lannister is a smug, arrogant bastard who thinks too highly of himself. And - oh yeah - he's a drug addict who sleeps with his step-sister. I wouldn't want _him_ to fancy _me._ "

Sansa tilted her head, considering Brienne's accusations. Before she had even spoken, Brienne could tell that Sansa was sceptical. "He _used_ to be a drug addict who sleeps with his step-sister. I don't think he does either anymore."

"Oh yeah?" said Brienne, not believing it for a moment. She knew what Jaime Lannister was like; there was no way he would take the moral high road on anything, especially when it involved drugs and sex with Cersei. "How did you come to that conclusion?"

Being more in the know than Sansa, Margaery answered for her. "I remember how Jaime used to behave when he was high while we were on tour; aggressive, angry, all over the place. He's not like that anymore. Backstage at _Westeros' Got Talent,_ he wouldn't even have a drink when it was offered. It's obvious he's turned over a new leaf and is trying the whole clean living thing. It might be a fad, but he's taking it pretty seriously."

"Yeah," agreed Asha. "I remember reading something about him going to rehab a few years ago. I reckon he's clean too."

Looking around at the members of _Maidenly_ who were actively standing up for Jaime, as if he was someone who deserved to be defended, Brienne felt a faint distain. He was a monster. He did not need protecting.

"He might be clean, but I bet he's still sleeping with Cersei. I couldn't imagine anything separating them."

To Brienne's surprise, Daenerys chose that moment to intervene, shrugging almost nonchalantly in spite of all the bad history between her and Jaime. "I don't think so."

"Really?"

"Cersei is now quite publicly with Robert Baratheon, isn't she?" said Daenerys, as if she did not already know the answer. "You know, the famous athlete? I don't think she would be out and about with him if she was still sleeping with Jaime."

Brienne raised a sceptical eyebrow. She had seen enough of Jaime and Cersei's "love" over the years to weigh it up for what it was; toxic co-dependency with a sprinkle of delusion, and a terrible tropey love story they repeated and repeated until they both believed it to be true. Why would they have ended it, when both had been so adept at using it as a psychological crutch?

"Why not? Jaime is not exactly the star he once was, but there is nothing stopping Cersei from seeing him on the side. There were rumours back in the day--"

"We all know the rumours," interrupted Sansa, waving her hand dismissively. "Just because none of us liked her, it doesn't mean we have to believe them."

Margaery rolled her eyes, clearly unswayed by Sansa's appeal to sisterly solidarity. If she disliked Cersei, she was going to do it to full capacity.

"Sansa, Cersei is a _biatch_. She once tried to steal a perfume commercial from me by spreading the rumour around that I slept with the Blue Bard - which was _not_ true, by the way - so I have no problem in being a terrible feminist and condemning her for sleeping with Jaime, Lancel, Osmund Kettleblack and the entire cast of Moon Boy for all I know. What goes around, comes around."

"Margaery!" squawked Sansa.

"What?" Margaery looked at Sansa with a strangely wounded expression. "We know that Cersei will suck any dick in King's Landing for power and prestige. What's the harm in saying it out loud?"

As Sansa's face crumpled at her inability to come up with a good retort, Asha let out a breezy laugh. "Given that we've all just got into bed with Jaime Lannister for a record deal, I'm not sure we can get onto our high horses on this one."

Although Asha was trying to be funny, that joke hit a little too close to the bone, and the five of them settled into an uncomfortable silence. It took a few seconds of them all sipping their coffees before Margaery found the words to justify her hypocrisy.

"Jaime is a good choice. As he said, he comes with a publicist and a stylist. Pia might be able to help us refine our look, and Arianne Martell is _feared_ in the industry, so she will be able to craft a story for a comeback that doesn't paint us as desperate has-beens who are just chasing our fallen stars."

At Margaery's searing indictment of their lives, Daenerys made a huffing sound. "We are _not_ desperate has-beens who are chasing our fallen stars!"

"Oh yeah?" said Margaery, her face the picture of scepticism. "Without a decent publicist the papers will be out for our blood, because they love ripping apart women who are taking more than they are due." Turning to each of the members of _Maidenly_ in turn, Margaery began to outline the exact direction the papers might take to ruin each of them. "Daenerys, they'll pick on your string of failed romances with Essosi models. Short term relationships are no longer cute when you are pushing your thirties; the papers will picture you as a woman desperately conscious of the ticking of her biological clock, desperately searching for a Baby Daddy."

Daenerys blushed furiously. "That's not true, that's--"

"I know it's not, but that is how it will be portrayed," said Margaery, before continuing on her quest to paint her bandmates in the worst possible light. "They'll also love mocking the fact that Brienne's acoustic album never got made, and that she had to resort to a demeaning job composing jingles instead..."

 _At least I get to quit my job with Randyll Tarly,_ thought Brienne thankfully, even though she believed Margaery's assessment of that same job was a _little_ harsh. _That's one bonus of becoming Jaime Lannister's bitch, I suppose._

"... they'll also _love_ looking up every bad review for Asha and Theon's restaurant in order to trash it, making it look like she has achieved nothing of worth in the years since _Maidenly_ split."

An unhappy line stretched across Asha's forehead as she looked at Margaery grumpily. "Hey! _The Kraken's_ clam chowder is the best in the city, we've got reviews that prove..."

"...And you just _know_ they'll go digging into the details of Sansa's divorce, and probably try to get an interview with Sandor in order to paint her in the worst possible light."

At that projected future, Sansa's already pale face went as white as snow, her blue eyes two sapphires swirling in ice. "Margaery," she spluttered, reaching for her hand. "They _can't_ do that. I'm not ready to... to... talk about... about _that_ , what with Lyarra and her friends and..."

Noticing her upset, Margaery ended her catastrophising and caught Sansa's hand in hers. She squeezed her fingers. Sensing a blooming moment of affection, Brienne and the other members of _Maidenly_ looked down at her coffee, just as they had been trained to do. Given Sansa's struggle to come to terms with _why_ her marriage had ended, the band had come to a silent agreement to pretend they did not know what was going on, at least until Sansa was ready to talk about it in a more open way.

"Don't worry," said Margaery softly, even as Sansa batted her hand away. She did not let up on her gentleness even after that denial. "It won't come to that. We'll have Arianne, Pia, and Jaime on our side, and they will be there to create the narrative _we_ want."

Brienne nodded in agreement. Although she thought Margaery's optimism was not completely warranted, she did not like to see Sansa so upset. "Margaery's right. Jaime Lannister has many, _many_ flaws, but he will make sure that we don't get bad press, because that means bad press for _him..._ and I'm sure he doesn't want that."

 _I'm sure he won't want to look bad in front of Daddy,_ Brienne thought. _Or Cersei._

"Yeah, Jaime won't screw things up for us," chimed in Asha with a mischievous smile. "After all, the reforming of _Maidenly_ also gives Jaime a chance to collaborate with a songwriter he's always wanted to work with."

As Asha's grin grew strangely taunting, Brienne furrowed her brow.

"Who's that?"

Asha's smirk grew wider.

"Why, _you_ of course."

Brienne nearly fell of her chair.

"Me?"

"Yeah," nodded Asha. "You."

Shaking her head disbelievingly, Brienne snorted with derisive laughter. "Why do you think Jaime wants to _collaborate_ \- as you so eloquently put it - with me?"

"You heard him," said Asha, taking a sip of her coffee, "apparently, you are the only talented one in _Maidenly._ Yes, he's giving us all a chance to write something that could be _Maidenly's_ comeback single, but he clearly thinks you are going to be the one to actually come up with the goods."

Flustered, Brienne tried to push back against Asha's assertions.

"He doesn't think that! He just wanted to find a way to rile us all up, to--"

Asha wasn't listening. "Brienne, don't start that, please. I know you think he is a talentless hack, but Jaime was behind some of _Kingsguard's_ biggest hits and it would be stupid it we didn't try to pool our talent."

"And I'm sure Jaime is eager to _pool his talent_ with you, Brienne," said Margaery swiftly, honing in on the opening Asha had left her.

Brienne tried to cut her off with a biting, disapproving glare. "I resent the innuendo. Remember, I nearly threw a melon at him once. Even if he wants to _pool his talent_ with me _,_ maybe I don't want to pool mine."

As Brienne's tone took a turn towards the grumpily embarrassed, the rest of _Maidenly_ started giggling at her distress. They _knew_ her history with Jaime, yet always seemed to enjoy insinuating that there was something in their arguing, bickering, and quibbling that went beyond dislike. Even though Brienne had repeatedly told them that they couldn't be more wrong about her feelings for Jaime - or Jaime's feelings for her - apparently the rest of _Maidenly_ enjoyed the mockery too much to ever accept that Brienne just did not like the guy.

"How many times?" she said, her voice rising. "There is nothing going on between me and Jaime!"

Sansa gave her a teasing smile that was somehow still entirely knowing. "Oh Brienne, we know. I don't think I've ever seen a dislike so intense as the one shared by you and Jaime."

"But you know what they say," smirked Daenerys. "There's a fine line between love and hate."

As the rest of her friends laughed, Brienne swallowed her irritation, then took a sip from her empty cup just to search for something to do. Curling her free hand into a tense ball, she tried not to blush.

She didn't like talking about Jaime Lannister. Somehow, it got too close to who she truly was.

* * *

After the coffees came drinks at a local bar and then dinner at _The Kraken._ Theon made them an absolutely wonderful seafood stew which he was trying out for the new menu, and the members of _Maidenly_ unanimously agreed it was scrumptious. Given the warm atmosphere of the restaurant, they veered off the topic of their new manager and their imminent return to the limelight. For one evening, Brienne could pretend they were the five young women who met at university again, with nothing to worry about and their whole futures ahead of them.

Unfortunately, she could not quite get Jaime Lannister out of her head.

 _We won't need to pool our talents,_ thought Brienne as Asha waved away the bill. _I can write a song without him, I can write a song on my own..._

At least she _thought_ she could. Ever since her acoustic album had been so roundly trashed by everyone who mattered and she had started writing jingles for a living, Brienne had struggled to write anything authentic at all. Music needed inspiration, and she felt devoid of that due to suffering disappointment after disappointment after disappointment after...

 _What does a single thirty-something with no prospects in sight even write about, anyway?_ she wondered, as she returned to her tiny apartment and set about getting ready for bed.

 _A lack of love?_ she thought, as she put on her pyjamas.

 _Death?_ she mused, brushing her teeth.

 _Disillusionment?_ accompanied the turning out of the light.

Climbing into bed, Brienne wondered what Jaime would write about. Back in the day, he had composed songs to the limitless power of love, and about Cersei, his beloved. Although Brienne detested Jaime, she could not deny that his music still spoke to her even to this day. The songs he had sung in his youth had been filled with a kind of hopeful idealism that had burrowed under her skin before Brienne knew why, shaping her heart in a way that nothing had since. Although she was loathe to admit it, Jaime Lannister had given her the vocabulary of love that she was determined to use someday.

 _If I sat down beside him at a piano, what stories would we write together?_ she asked herself, closing her eyes.

_What songs would he sing to me?_

_Would he listen to what I had to say?_

_Would he touch..._

_In the distance, Brienne hears a piece of music being played on the piano. She turns her head towards the sound, conscious of the fact she is no longer in her own home. Without even looking, she knows she is miraculously returned to the house by the beach, and her heart jumps to her throat._

_She knows he must be here, somewhere._

_Her feet fall softly on the hardwood floor, a percussive companion to the music._

_He is playing_ My Perfect Knight _. Her song._

_Brienne tries to forget that she wrote that piece for Jaime Lannister - her hero turned massive disappointment - when she enters the room and sees the man with his heartbeat in his lips. As his fingers dance across the keys of the piano, he plays the song that Brienne had long ago carved out of her own heart._

_It makes her feel closer to him, somehow._

_The moment she enters the room, he looks up and smiles, forcing all the air out of her lungs._

_"Do you write your own music?" she asks. "Or just play mine?"_

_Although they are inside, sunlight seems to settle on his dark hair, and his grin grows. Brienne feels as if she is floating._

_"I am planning on writing something," he admits, getting up from the piano and crossing the room in strides that Brienne cannot count. "But I have to find my inspiration first."_

_"What songs would you sing to me?" Brienne asks. "Would you listen to what I had to say? Would you touch--?"_

When Brienne opened her eyes from her dream, she felt awake in more sense than one.

 _I've found it,_ she thought. _I've found my inspiration._

_My new Perfect Knight._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading. As ever, I would love to hear what you think.


	6. Rhyme and Reason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne tries to focus on writing the song...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I'm sorry this is late. Ironically, inspiration is escaping me at the moment!

**Then**

Brienne had only agreed to go to the _Tower of Joy_ recording studio in Dorne with the rest of _Maidenly_ because they had a big tour coming up and they needed to pre-record their vocals for the dance numbers. Although she had worried that lip syncing was cheating, she certainly did not want to try to sing that awful song Baelish had foisted on them live while doing _that_ energetic routine Syrio had choreographed, so had reluctantly gone along with the plan.

"I don't even know what _zigazig ah_ means," Brienne had moaned to Asha on the tour bus down to Dorne, nearly banging her forehead against the glass of the window in her frustration. "It is not in the dictionary, is it?"

In spite of Brienne's obvious distress, Asha just laughed. "Nobody does, Brie. You've just got to go with it."

"What if I don't want to go with it? What if I want to make real music?"

Once again, Asha had snorted, as if the suggestion a band might want to make music with meaning was faintly ridiculous. "I think you gave up the chance to make real music when you let Baelish call you the _Forever Maid._ "

Knowing Asha was right, Brienne had kept quiet for the rest of the journey, embarrassed by her own decision to sell-out. _Maidenly's_ upcoming tour necessitated being in the best headspace possible, so she tried not to get riled by trivial things. The band had never been to Essos before, especially as headliners, so Brienne knew should be happy about it, grateful even. It was an amazing opportunity, after all. However, it still felt a little galling that the shine of their mega stadium tour was being dimmed by the fact they were being compelled to sing meaningless bubble-gum pop written by focus groups, rather than songs from the heart by real songwriters.

 _This fame is what you wanted when you started Maidenly,_ Brienne tried to tell herself. _So suck up the bad parts, and enjoy the good._

Although she kept reiterating the positives to herself, there was one thing that dragged down the whole experience for Brienne even more than the bubblegum pop. _Maidenly_ was going on tour with _Kingsguard_ , meaning every day for six months she would have to deal with Jaime Lannister snorting cocaine in the green room and constantly harping on about authenticity and commitment to one's true self, while Brienne was suffering through selling her soul to corporate interests. Normally, she would be able to laugh Jaime's pretentious ridiculousness off but, due to her own negativity surrounding the schlock Baelish was getting _Maidenly_ to perform, his comments would prove particularly cutting.

 _Stupid man,_ she thought. _I hope he keeps away from me._

When they finally arrived at the _Tower of Joy_ after yet another hellish bus ride, Brienne dashed to freedom as quickly as she could. Due to the hot Dornish weather, she needed a shower and to drink at least a gallon of water - which she knew the _Tower of Joy_ provided in its adjacent accommodation - and to pick up the acoustic guitar that she had smuggled in the back of the bus. In the time leading up to the tour, she had been working on her own music, so wanted to spend a little time composing. Unfortunately, it proved she was not to get away quickly, as after retrieving her guitar, she found she was interrupted.

"Hey, Brienne," said the shirtless devil spawn himself, coming to stand next to her and proceeding to do absolutely nothing useful, even as the roadies and the rest of _Maidenly_ were helping to unpack the bus. "Is that a guitar?"

She rolled her eyes, unsure as to why Jaime Lannister and his rippling abdominals wanted her to explain the obvious. "Yes."

"Is it Margaery's?"

"No."

"Is it Sansa's?"

" _No_ ," said Brienne more forcefully, slinging the guitar over her shoulder by its strap. She didn't have time for his silly games, his low slung jeans, or his prominent Adonis belt.

Jaime's eyes went wide in what looked like surprise. "Is it yours?"

"Yes," she snapped. Given her gruelling schedule, she did not want to waste any of her precious time on Jaime. However, when she went to move away, Jaime grabbed her arm and held on fast. She had to pretend his touch didn't make her skin tingle.

"Cool, I didn't realise you played. I thought you were just the keyboardist."

Having had her abilities talked down her whole life, Brienne resented the word _just._

"I'm not _just_ anything, thanks," she said, yanking her arm out of his grip. "I play keyboard, guitar, and I sing. I'm a triple threat."

A laugh escaped between his teeth, teasing and tense. "I didn't say you weren't. It's just I play the guitar too and, seeing as Cersei isn't here, I thought we could hang out and just jam when we're not recording—"

Readjusting the shoulder strap, Brienne tried to conceal her eye roll as she turned away from him. For once, Cersei had decided not to trail after Jaime to Dorne like a modern day camp follower and concentrate on her own music instead. Jaime's father was now her manager. It meant a rebrand and a restyle, but it meant Cersei's career was now taking off in its own right, while Jaime's star was starting to wane. Aerys had already been muttering about Tywin cutting off _Kingsguard's_ legs with his new signing, which meant Baelish had been forcing them all to work harder just that bit harder to make the upcoming tour a success. Nevertheless, it apparently wasn't his father's disrespect that cause Jaime's upset.

No... Jaime had been miserable because he couldn't have his girlfriend at his beck and call, ready and willing to suck his dick whenever he wanted.

 _Sexist pig,_ thought Brienne.

As the world was continually spinning around her - altering with ever more edicts from Baelish - the only thing Brienne _could_ channel her irritation into was Jaime's reaction to these changing events. It was laughable that he was now trying to suck up to her in the absence of his usual squeeze, hilarious that he thought she might be interested in his milquetoast politeness. Brienne had learnt the hard way not to take friendly gestures at face value, the fact this offer to jam came from Jaime Lannister automatically made it seem like a trap.

"Why don't you go ask to hang out with Sandor the tour manager?" she suggested, not having any time for even the most rudimentary courtesy. "I promise you that he'll be more friendly to you than me."

As if to prove a point, at that exact moment, Sandor had started loudly swearing at a roadie who dropped one of the amps on his foot, demonstrating why he had earned the nickname "The Hound". Jaime swallowed heavily. Everybody knew Sandor was not the friendliest of creatures - in fact, he was somewhat outright aggressive - so Jaime looked momentarily intimidated at the prospect of speaking with him.

But then his face fell.

"Brienne, I—"

"See you later," she said carelessly, before turning on her heel and heading into the _Tower of Joy,_ guitar in tow.

There were too few hours in the day to waste any of them speaking to Jaime Lannister.

* * *

**Now**

If Brienne was ever going to compose a song worthy of her own integrity and _Maidenly's_ musical comeback, she was going to have to spend much, _much_ more time with her ideal man.

She needed inspiration and she thought it might be found in the man from her dreams. There was something about his dark hair, haunting eyes, and easy manner that left Brienne tripping over herself, even though she knew he was only a figment of her imagination, that he was a fiction she had conjured from nothing, that...

... or was he?

There was something so real about him - something so palpably close to the strong but sensitive man she had been searching for half her life - that Brienne was half convinced that he might just be real. It wasn't as if the brain made up whole new people when dreaming, was it? It plucked individuals from one's memory; a person met at a party once, a face passed in the supermarket, or an outline sketched from an advert. It was the hope of something once concrete that pushed Brienne into chasing the dream rather than living reality.

And there was only one way to chase a dream: to sleep more.

In order to accomplish her task, Brienne bought a range of eye masks in different materials and colours off the internet, just so she could test each combination. She replaced the flimsy blinds in her bedroom with heavy blackout curtains, and downloaded some dolphin sounds that the internet promised her would lull her into a peaceful slumber. She did a tentative search for sleep therapists, but quickly deduced that it was too early to pursue that line of inquiry when she hadn't tried easier solutions yet.

 _Let me see him,_ Brienne asked the universe every time she climbed into bed. _Please. Just once._ _Just once._

Luckily, the planets were often listening. For her diligence, she was awarded with a couple of glimpses of the man in her dream. One night, she ended up at the beach, watching him walking into the surf. The waves broke into horses as he broke her heart, silver and godlike in the moonlight. Another night, she listened to him play the piano, and smiled every time he looked at her. His eyes were so bright that they put stars to shame. Wanting to hold onto that glow - that inspirational, uplifting heat - Brienne would think of the man from her dreams and try to write some music in echo of him. She switched between major and minor keys and lilting chromaticisms, searching for the exact motif that would capture his likeness. She tried legato and staccato, the soft and sustaining pedals, and even searching the internet for scraps of poetry that might serve as skeleton lyrics.

 _I wrote_ My Perfect Knight _for Jaime Lannister of all people,_ she thought derisively. _So I know could write something special for the man in my dreams... of course I could._

However, as the days passed, it soon dawned on Brienne that this elusive song inspired by her dream was just not materialising. Chord progressions never resolved, and lyrics never rhymed, because the street outside her apartment was too loud to provide her with anything other than fractured sleep, preventing her from spending a great deal of time in the man's company.

And without the man... there was no song.

And without the song... there was no comeback.

It also did not help that the Group Chat were always on her back.

**The Maidenly Maidens Group Chat**

**Participants:** Margaery Tyrell (Administrator), Sansa Stark, Asha Greyjoy, Daenerys Targaryen, Brienne Tarth.

 _Margaery:_ Jaime wants us to be at his office at 5pm tomorrow.

 _Brienne:_ Why? I know I'm planning on giving in my notice to Randyll, but that doesn't mean I can just bunk off work.

 _Margaery:_ Yes, you can. Maidenly stuff is obvs important.

 _Daenerys:_ What is "Maidenly stuff" when it's at home?

 _Margaery:_ You know. Band stuff.

 _Sansa:_ M, if you are going to be the chief point of communication between our manager and the band for the time being, you are going to have to be a little clearer about what you mean by "Maidenly stuff".

 _Margaery:_ I sent you all Jaime's number a couple of days ago, you can all communicate with him yourself!

 _Brienne:_ But he's a dick, so maybe we don't want to. Maybe I want to use you as a human shield.

 _Margaery:_ Then you can only blame yourself if you don't know what "Maidenly stuff" is.

 _Asha:_ Marg, can you just tell us why Jaime wants to see us? I have beer to drink.

...

 _Margaery:_ Arianne and Pia are going to be there. Jaime wants us to meet them.

 _Brienne:_ But we haven't even got a SONG. How can have a style when we don't even know our _*_ sound* yet? How can he think this is a good idea?

 _Margaery:_ It's only an initial meeting, B. Calm down.

 _Brienne:_ This is so typical Jaime, caring more about our look than our music.

 _Asha:_ I think he's just trying to get the ball rolling. It's no big deal.

 _Sansa:_ Yeah, he's just getting us prepared.

 _Daenerys:_ Look, I don't like the guy either, but I think this is coming from a place of support. Although it might pain you, Brie, but the band is also about our style and our PR. We can't neglect it.

 _Brienne:_ I'm not suggesting we do.

 _Daenerys:_ Then what *are* you suggesting?

As Brienne did not really have a comeback to that, the following day at just after 5pm, she found herself sitting in Jaime's office, her arms folded across her chest, listening to Pia prattle on about fashion... the thing Brienne cared about least in the entire world.

"I'm not here to impose upon you a certain look. You are no longer the young girls who could be shaped by a domineering manager," began Pia, even as Jaime sat in the corner overseeing the whole situation, every inch the domineering manager. Brienne tried not to show on her face that she was seething at being in his presence, but it was difficult when Jaime kept smiling at her.

 _I hate his stupid dimples,_ she thought as Jaime's grin grew. _They were made to torment me._

"But you are all individual, mature women who know what you look best in, and I therefore want your help in creating _Maidenly's_ new look."

Pia then began talking at length about dress materials and silhouettes, and Brienne found it difficult to stay focused. With the sun shining through the windows, Jaime's office was quite warm, and Brienne's eyes kept drooping as Pia droned on and on and _on_ about clothes. Trying to keep her eyes open, Brienne glanced around the room, wanting to find something to focus on that might keep her awake. Her eyes rolled over Jaime, who was lounging in the corner in his stupid expensive suit with his stupidly styled hair and his stupid dimples. It took him a few moments to notice she was looking, but the second he did...

He _winked._

Brienne snapped her head away, horrified, even as she could see Jaime silently chuckling to himself. She did not understand why he did this sort of thing to her. It was not like they had ever been _friends_ \- in fact, their relationship had often been quite adversarial, especially during the tour to Essos - so this new teasing was quite unexpected. What would Jaime Lannister, the most beautiful man in the world, want with the ugliest member of _Maidenly_ he had once thought part of the help?

Shaking her head, Brienne tried to focus on Pia again, even as Daenerys asked a soul-destroying question about the difference between _haute couture_ and _couture._ Yet it was next to impossible, as Jaime had started tapping his foot on the floor to attract her attention, marking the seconds out even as Brienne got more and more irritated with his very existence.

 _You just have to focus for a little longer,_ she told herself. _Then you can escape this meeting and_ him.

After Pia had finished came Arianne. She was less focussed on meaningless platitudes about _discovering oneself_ and _expressing our authentic selves through fashion_ and more on the disappointing realities of being celebrities.

"We will need to start cultivating your relationship with the press," said Arianne, "and the way that starts is making you all appear attractive and desirable. If people want you romantically, your audience will want you musically. Who are you all currently dating?"

At that abrupt, intrusive question, all five members of _Maidenly_ were reduced to silence. Exchanging nervous glances, the five of them non-verbally decided who was going to take one for the team.

"I've just gone through a divorce," said Sansa, eventually breaking the silence. There was something tentative in her voice, but Brienne could not put her finger on why. "Me and Sandor - that is my ex - are currently getting used to the custody agreement over our daughter. I'm not quite ready to date yet, because—"

"I'll date anyone you set me up with, Arianne," interrupted Margaery, her expression stony. Brienne glanced at Sansa but saw no reaction, even as Margaery charged ahead. "I find there is an honesty in a fake relationship. You both have a contract and truly know what the other wants."

At Margaery's statement, Sansa blushed and looked down at her hands, which were interlocked and tense in her lap. Sensing that neither Margaery nor Sansa were willing to talk to Arianne about the issue at hand, Asha piped up.

"I've been with Qarl for about six months, but I'm not sure if it is a long term thing," she said, unnaturally loudly. "I'm not sure it is something I want to make public though."

Daenerys was next in the line of confession, covering Sansa's back. "I'm also willing to be set-up with someone. My relationship with Daario ended some time ago... I'm ready for something new."

With the introductory sentences of their next big romances at the tips of her fingers, Arianne started to spin out the series of stories that she would soon be writing large in the tabloids. Sansa was a young, single mother dipping her toe back in the dating pool. Asha was a mystery who liked to keep her personal relationships _private._ Margaery and Daenerys would be set up with eligible young bachelors to pose for photos and go on fake dates.

And Brienne... well, she was the Forever Maid.

Forever Alone.

Baelish had given her that name a long time ago, and he had always promised that it was to do with Brienne's sense of idealism, her wishful longing and loyalty, rather than the fact she was gawky, tall, awkward, and not as conventionally attractive as her bandmates. She knew now that it had been a lie - Baelish would never promote such sentimental values over the objective realities of human beauty - but it still hurt that Arianne did not bother to ask Brienne about her relationship status as she mapped out the future for the four other members of _Maidenly._

It took another half an hour of ruthless planning and pleasantries before Pia and Arianne had sculpted the members of _Maidenly_ into something resembling international pop stars, before their torture was finally over.

"It was so lovely to meet you," said Pia in the round of goodbyes, kissing Brienne on both cheeks. "I promise we'll find you a look that is good and won't put you in those ugly turtlenecks Baelish used to."

Brienne let out a hum of laughter. "Good. I'm glad."

Arianne said goodbye with an overly tight hug and _three_ kisses, effervescent in every sense of the word.

"No more Forever Maid, Brienne. We'll find someone nice for you."

Thinking of Hyle and Jeyne from Accounts, Brienne was not sure whether _nice_ was something she aspired to anymore. Nevertheless, she returned Arianne's hug and hoped her thanks sounded sincere.

As the stylist, the Head of PR, and the members of _Maidenly_ began to file out of the room, Brienne was halted by someone calling her name.

"Wait, Brienne, one moment."

Turning around, she found Jaime Lannister standing behind his desk, smiling at her with that lazy grin of his. It instantly set her on edge.

"What do you want?" she snapped, the second they were alone.

Jaime's luminescent smile did not drop - not even for a moment - even at her abrupt rudeness. Instead, his tone turned soft, inviting even.

"I've just got a couple of questions."

"Like what?"

Letting out a breathy laugh at her continued antagonism, Jaime hooked his one remaining thumb into the pocket of his jeans. The pose instantly reminded Brienne that, during the peak of his career in _Kingsguard,_ Jaime had quite an impressive part-time career as an underwear model.

"Firstly... are you dating anyone, wench?"

Due to the intimacy of the question, Brienne blushed, even as the anger in her belly started to boil.

"I don't see how that is any of your business."

"I'm your manager," he smirked. "I'm the one who set you up with Arianne. Of course it is my business."

Brienne let out a disapproving huff. "Still doesn't mean I'm going to tell you. Any other questions?"

Perhaps impressed at her deflection, Jaime did not immediately answer her, instead taking the time to walk around the desk to come to stand in front of her. The slow deliberate way he strolled seemed designed to antagonise, especially as it took so long for him to come and take his place. Once he was before her, Brienne was momentarily dazzled by how green his eyes were, but then he had to go and ruin it with another question.

"Secondly... how's the song going?"

Brienne dropped her gaze. However much she disliked Jaime, she still had to acknowledge that he was an incredibly talented songwriter, so admitting her lack of progress to him was almost a confession of failure.

"Not well," she mumbled. "I've not yet got that idea that I can shape into something good. It just hasn't come to me."

Jaime raised an eyebrow, in something resembling surprise. "Really? I remember when you were writing your acoustic album during the tour in Essos, it was flowing."

Even though his tone was light, Brienne could not help but scowl. The acoustic album was a sore spot that she only spoke about with her closest friends, and Jaime Lannister _definitely_ wasn't a close friend.

"I haven't found my inspiration yet," she said forcefully, not wanting to talk about it. "It will come eventually; I know it will."

"You sure?" asked Jaime. "Because if you are struggling, we could always try writing together. I have a room in my house with a grand piano and space to think, so you could bring your guitar and we could—"

Using the handbag on her chair as an excuse to turn away from him, Brienne seized it, and then made to get away. She didn't see how jamming with Jaime Lannister was going to get her any closer to writing _Maidenly's_ new hit, especially when she could instead focus on trying to spend time with her real inspiration: the man from her dreams.

"No thanks, Kingslayer," she said. As she purposefully twisted the knife, Brienne did not look at Jaime, because she knew the tabloids' nickname for him cut deep. "I can write the song myself. I don't need you."

She could feel him bristling even as she marched towards the door, so held her head high to avoid the guilt sneaking in. Although Brienne didn't like Jaime, he was surprisingly easy to wound, and she instantly felt a little awkward at the audible sound of his emotional bruising.

"I'll go and hang out with Sandor our ex-tour manager, then," barked Jaime, foregoing politeness. "He'll probably be more friendly to me than you."

Reaching the door, Brienne gave Jaime a confused look. His comment was so out of the blue, so random, that she did not know what he was referring to. What did Sandor have to do with anything, anyway?

"See you around, Jaime."

In her guilt, at least she could give him his name.

"Yeah," he replied gruffly. "See you around."

Not wanting to wallow in the awkwardness for a moment longer, Brienne exited the room and shut the door behind her. Once she was safely on the other side, she closed her eyes, trying not to think of Jaime Lannister and his strange hurt. Instead, she focussed on what was important.

If she was going to see her ideal man in her dreams tonight, she needed to invest in decent earplugs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! As ever, I would love to hear what you think xx


	7. The Other World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Needing inspiration, Brienne turns to an unlikely place...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! Thanks for coming back for the latest update. It is not yet Monday here yet, but I hope you like this little offering!

That night, armed with her new earplugs, Brienne fell asleep and dreamed.

_She arrives in the beachside house, her hair thick with sea salt. This time, she hears no music. No birdsong. No sign of life. This time, she hears nothing._

_"Hello?" she calls, the polished floorboards creaking beneath her bare feet. "Is anybody there?"_

_Every time she visits this house it is subtly different - the corridors longer, the windows wider - but this is the first time it has felt cold, empty even. The sun disappears behind a cloud beyond the windows and the light in the room darkens._

_For the first time since she has been here, Brienne feels haunted._

_"Hello? Hello?"_

_Desperate to find him, Brienne darts down the nearest corridor, wanting to find any indication that the man of her dreams is still in the house._

_"Hello? Is anyone— oh."_

_She walks through a door in the house by the sea and arrives in Baelish's office as it had been years ago, all dark wood, mothballs, and oppressive atmosphere. Baelish is sitting at his desk wearing a saccharine smile, and the Forever Maid sits opposite him - fresh and innocent and not ready for disappointment - her freckled face reddened by an embarrassed blush._

_Brienne remembers this moment and dreads reliving it. It had been one of the worst moments of her life._

_"If you would just listen to the demo, Petyr," says the Forever Maid, holding the CD she had put her heart and soul into out towards him. "It is_ good _, I promise. All of these songs were written by me and are just as great, or even better, than_ My Perfect Knight. _You know I am a good songwriter and a hard worker - I've showed you that, time and time again - and I promise I will not let you down. So please, give me a chance."_

_The Forever Maid's eyes are so full of hope as Baelish takes the CD off her that Brienne can't bear to look. He doesn't say anything immediately, so the Forever Maid tries to plug the silence with words; meaningless verbiage fit for the contestant on a reality TV show._

_"It is not so much the pop that_ Maidenly _normally do, but if you just give it a chance—"_

 _Baelish puts the CD down on the table, the plastic of the cover letting out a ringing_ click _as it touched the cold, hard wood._

_"Brienne, can I be honest with you?"_

_The Forever Maid nods, her eyes wide._

_"Of course."_

_Baelish leans back in his chair, cradling his head in his hands. Although his eyes are on the Forever Maid, Brienne can still feel the crawling grossness of his gaze._

_"If we lived in another world, where talent actually mattered in a female artist, I would hire you in a heartbeat," he says, his voice soft. She can sense the steel behind the silk. "You are a talented songwriter, a committed bandmember, hardworking, and tenacious... but we don't."_

_"We don't... what?"_

_"We don't live in a world where anything like that matters in a female artist." His smile grows broader. "We live in a world where tiny waists, plump lips, fat asses, and shining hair matter. We live in a world where Sansa Stark appears half naked in high fashion magazines and you stand to one side. We live in a world where people lust over Daenerys Targaryen and Margaery Tyrell and not you. We live in a world where Asha Greyjoy is seen as unconventionally attractive, while you are just... unattractive. Off stage. Silent. And no matter how many stylists I send you to, no matter how much surgery you have... you will never have any of those things that would make you an artist worth investing in. Someone behind the scenes, perhaps, but let's not kid ourselves here. A person who looks like you can never be a star."_

_At that horrible assessment of the situation, the Forever Maid looks as if she has been slapped and Brienne herself wants to be sick. She remembers how unprepared she had been for this awful horrible truth and can only watch as the Forever Maid is left reeling in shock, everything she has ever believed about herself and the industry falling like shattered glass to her feet, cutting her tender flesh._

_"Petyr..._ please."

 _"However we frame your music, whatever pretty dress we put you in... you'll always be the_ Forever Maid: _the ugly chick from_ Maidenly _whose manager should have put his foot down about being in the band in the first place."_

_Knowing what was coming next - the tears, the upset, and the dark cloud of depression that had not left her alone for at least a year - Brienne turns her back on the memory before her and dashes out the room. Overcome with tears, she barely sees the man waiting for her until she charges headfirst into him._

_Looking into his eyes, she nearly drowns._

_"You're my inspiration," she tells him, reaching for his hand. "What do I need to do? How do I turn you into a song?"_

_He gives her a gentle smile which seems to bring the all the light back to the house, as powerful as a wave breaking over the shore._

_"You must ask him."_

_"Who?"_

_"Him."_

_"WHO?_

Yet for all her confusion, when she woke up, Brienne had the answer.

* * *

Brienne was thankful that Peck, Jaime's personal assistant, had sent every member of _Maidenly_ an easily accessible electronic copy of the contract they had signed with his boss, as it made it much easier for her to find the details of Jaime's address late at night.

While the cab driver gave her a funny look when she bowled into his car wearing a _Stormlander_ hoodie over her pyjamas and a pair of bright orange trainers, she still greeted him politely and asked her to drive him to the other side of the city. Jaime lived just outside the Gate of the Gods in the middle class suburb that had grown up around the Gold Road. Having known him as a young man, Brienne expected him to live in a gaudy tacky mansion paid for by Daddy's money. The understated eco-friendly house with the sensible car parked on the drive was therefore a little bit of a surprise.

"Can you keep the metre on?" Brienne asked the cab driver.

The man huffed. "Fine, but don't be too long. I want to clock off soon."

Leaving her gratitude with the cabbie, Brienne exited the car and made her way onto the shadowed pathway that led to Jaime's house. It only then occurred to her that she did not quite know what she was going to say; it was one thing to have a vision about the best way to solve one's inspiration problems, quite another to put that plan into action.

 _Fuck,_ thought Brienne after knocking on the door, her hand shaking. _What am I doing? It's two o'clock in the morning._

_And I'm at Jaime Lannister's door._

_Fuck... what am I_ doing?

_Maybe I can still leave in time before he sees me._

_I'd have wasted money on the cab getting here, but that's okay._

_Maybe—_

"Brienne?"

Having already started to edge back down the driveway, Brienne nearly jumped out her skin when the door opened with a loud click. Jaime was here; real and present and confused. Her embarrassment made her head spin and she froze at the sound of his voice, not knowing what to say.

"What are you doing here, Brienne?" Jaime asked incredulously. "It is two in the morning."

Given his stringent tone, Brienne could barely turn around to look at him. What had she been thinking? She needed help with the song, of course, but did that mean she had to come and prostrate herself before Jaime fucking Lannister of all people just because he was a supremely talented songwriter?

 _No, it doesn't,_ she thought. _Why would I want to be that vulnerable in front of him?_

Needing to feel strong, Brienne pulled her shoulders back and stood up to her full height as she turned around to face him. She arranged her features into something that looked like arrogance - the type of cocksure arrogance that Jaime had worn as a young man with the world at his feet. However, it was a little difficult to keep it up when she saw his face: he looked tired, half-awake, confused, and a little vulnerable.

And also totally shirtless.

"Brienne?"

Given his totally disarmed reaction, it took Brienne a few moments to compose herself to respond. Whatever had passed between them, Jaime was still effortlessly sexy, so she knew her response had to be barbed if she was to keep her dignity.

"That's more like it."

His brow furrowed in conclusion. "What is more like it?"

"You haven't got your shirt on. When you were in _Kingsguard,_ you basically never had it on. This is a return to form."

Jaime stared at her blankly for a few seconds, before finally finding the words. An echo of his familiar cutting smile lit his face, bringing a strange warmth to his expression.

"So... you turned up here in the middle of the night to comment on my six pack?"

Realising she had cornered herself by bringing up his state of undress, Brienne scowled even as his grin grew. "No!"

"Then what _are_ you here for?"

His question wasn't teasing or challenging, but simply an appeal for the truth. It made Brienne feel less confrontational and take down some of her barriers.

"I just wanted to talk about the song. Can I come in?"

While he never provided a yes to her request, he did silently open the front door and disappeared back into the house. Brienne followed, knowingly. Even without words, his gesture seemed an appeal, so she slipped inside like one of the many groupies he much have entertained in the dead of night over the years.

When she entered his house, Brienne was immediately surprised by how understated it all was; there was no flashy interior design or obtrusive statement furniture. Instead, it was strangely homely. There were bright and colourful pictures on the walls, in reds and greens and blues. Many of them were of Jaime's _Kingsguard_ days or associated memorabilia _,_ but Brienne noticed at least one that was a candid shot of herself, Jaime, and Asha warming up during their ill-fated tour to Essos.

 _Who would have believed the Viking Maid was his type?_ thought Brienne as Jaime hurried her past the pictures in the hallway towards the minimalist lounge. _Then again, she's unconventionally attractive, unlike me._

Once they were in the open plan lounge, Jaime gestured towards the sofa.

"Do you want to sit?" he asked, still looking a little bemused.

"No, I'm fine."

Although she was in his house after midnight, she wasn't in the mood to accept his hospitality. Jaime seemed to sense that, as he shuffled his feet nervously and ran his hand through his hair, trying to give himself something to do.

"A drink?"

"It is two in the morning!"

Jaime rolled his eyes. "I'm not suggesting a pick-me-up, just water or juice or something."

"I don't need water."

"Okay," said Jaime. His irritation and confusion were palpable in his voice, along with a hint of curiosity. "Well... why don't you stay here and think about what you want to talk about... and I'll be back in a second."

Not expecting him to flee so quickly, Brienne said, "umm... okay."

Jaime gave her a quick nod before disappearing out of the room, leaving her alone in a with yet more echoes of her past. The walls were not just decorated with photos, but with the covers of _Kingsguard_ singles that had gone platinum, and Brienne could not help but notice that all of them were written by Jaime himself. Her stomach sank. His talent was a clear sign that she _did_ need his help, even if that fact was galling to her. After her experience as a teenage fan girl, Brienne did not like to feel that Jaime Lannister had power over her. It only reminded her of how ridiculous she had once been in indulging her adolescent feelings for him.

 _Fuck,_ she thought. _Why have I done this to myself? Why have I put myself in the position to need his help in the first place? I was perfectly happy writing jingles for Randyll Tarly. I don't need_ Maidenly _to comeback. Maybe it is better if that part of my life stays dead, just like my hopes for an acoustic album._

A few moments later, Jaime re-entered the room. He was now wearing a floral kimono-style dressing gown that covered the six pack he clearly did not want to talk about with her, and was carrying his prosthetic hand. While Brienne surveyed him bemusedly for his unusual and unorthodox fashion choice, Jaime sat down on the sofa and began to attempt to fix his prosthetic to his arm, carefully winding the straps against his reddened skin.

"You don't have to put that on," said Brienne, noticing the pink, embarrassed blush in his cheeks. Perhaps nakedness did not mean a bare chest to Jaime Lannister. "Not for me, anyway."

At that abrupt statement, Jaime turned to look at her, his eyebrows disappearing into his hairline in his surprise. It suddenly occurred to her that a pretty boy like him might have never been asked to be authentic by one of his colleagues in the music industry, not when his beauty had been so prized.

"I don't have to put that on?" he asked slowly. As he spoke, it was as if he was testing each word, confusedly evaluating if that was the correct response to her statement.

"No," replied Brienne, feeling awkward under his intense gaze. "I mean... I'm the one who barged into your house asking to talk in the middle of the night. I wouldn't ask you to dress up just to impress me."

Although he was clearly suspicious of her motives, Jaime obeyed, but did not take his eyes off her as he removed his prosthetic once again, leaving Brienne feeling strangely vulnerable. In his presence, there was a part of her that was always a silly teenaged girl in awe of her idol, even though the more rational part of her brain knew that he had never been what she thought he was. It therefore amazed her that Jaime also seemed to feel a little exposed in her presence too, as his cheeks were still illuminated by a pinkish blush.

"Cersei never used to let me take my prosthetic off in her presence," he said quietly. "She said that she did not like to be reminded that I wasn't whole anymore."

"Well, Cersei is and always was a complete cow."

As his eyes widened in surprise, he let out a huff of laughter. "Yes," he said softly. "I suppose she was."

An unsettling silence enveloped them both as Jaime put his prosthetic down on the coffee table, leaving his handless arm bared to her. Brienne swallowed nervously. Now they were here, together, vulnerable in their pyjamas, she suddenly thought it might have been better to wait to talk to him about the song until she could see him in his office. In a neutral, professional space that didn't invite in some shared intimacy that Brienne neither wanted nor needed, they could speak to one another rationally.

In contrast, this situation was a little dangerous.

"So," began Jaime, taking care with his words. "You wanted to talk to me about the song..."

Brienne nodded sharply. It would be easier to talk about the song, because it kept him away from anything potentially sensitive.

"Yeah." She went over what she wanted to say in her head, trying to work out the best way to phrase it. "I just... I'm struggling to find inspiration and I was wondering... as you are a songwriter too... where you have found it previously?"

Jaime took a moment to respond as his face was overcome by a wistful smile that spoke of many things unsaid. "When I was younger, I would just think about my feelings for Cersei."

Brienne had to suppress an eyeroll. Cersei had never been anything but catty in her experience, so she struggled to see how she could be the inspiration for some of Jaime's best songs.

"Was she really that inspirational?"

"Not her," said Jaime, "but my feelings _for_ her."

"There's a difference?"

"Of course," he replied. "It was not Cersei that needed to be given form in music, because she already _had_ form. She was physically beautiful, but also bolshy, brilliant, and bright. I had never loved anyone before her, and that feeling was so great, so enormous... I could only convey it in music. Putting it in a song was the only way that I could give it the authentic expression it needed. I imagine it was the same for you and your perfect knight."

Although Jaime Lannister had no idea that he was talking about himself and there was no danger of the truth being exposed, the mere mention of the song that launched _Maidenly_ into superstardom made Brienne freeze up. In spite of the overwhelming importance of that song in her life, it was so intimately associated with the shameful, childish feelings she had had for Jaime in her youth that it instantly made her flush red.

"It was _nothing_ like that between me and my perfect knight. Nothing at all."

At her slightly huffy tone, Jaime smirked. "Then what was it like?"

"That is none of your business!"

Brienne went to move away, to flee this weird secret space she had accidentally created for the both of them, but was stalled when Jaime reached out to her with his missing hand. It took him a few seconds to realise what he had done, but the moment he did, he pulled away as if she had burned him. As he flushed deeply, he instantly covered himself with a joke.

"Come on, Brienne. We're being vulnerable here."

"Are we?"

"Yeah," he insisted. "I told you about my pathetic little love story, so it is only fair. Tell me about yours."

Brienne wanted to bite back, to tell him he was a self-centred bastard who was trying to find a chink in her armour in order to make her feel small. Yet she could not find it in herself to say that, as he was looking at her in that slightly dreamy way that she had imagined he would when she was a teenaged girl stuck idolising a false god.

Looking down at her hands, she picked deliberately at her hoodie, wanting to distract herself. It didn't work. "He was a guy that I thought I knew... that I didn't really. I just created this suit fit for my perfect man and put it on him... and it never really fit."

"Well... write about that."

Brienne blinked, surprised. "What?"

"That disillusionment and disappointment," said Jaime. "There is something beautiful in collapsing idealism, in realising someone you thought you loved is only an illusion. You could get a whole album out of that. _I thought I was the Warrior and she was the Maid, but all the time she was the Stranger, hiding her true face from my gaze..._ oh, I should write that down."

As Jaime went to jot that lyric down on a notepad he kept on the art deco coffee table, Brienne realised she had never considered that idea before. Her most famous song had been about her idolising a hero, soliloquising in poetry set to music on the object of her affection's singular wonder. Could she write about how Jaime Lannister had failed her, instead of how another man who had captured her dreams?

"I'll think about it," she said, even as the dark haired man with his magnetic smile lingered at the back of her mind. "I honestly will."

"Good. I want you to write something truly spectacular, Brienne, something that really shows off your talent."

Even though Jaime was smiling at her softly, Brienne could not help but recoil. Tender words from him only made her uncomfortable. "Alright, now you are going too far with the compliments."

His grin fell, taking the warmth of his expression with it.

"I _am_ being sincere, you know? I _do_ think you are very talented."

Jaime Lannister, sincere? She had never heard of anything so preposterous.

"Sure you are," she scoffed, removing herself from the soft, vulnerable pull of this conversation. It was not a kind of discussion she really wanted to have with Jaime. "I remember our first meeting. I know what your sincerity looks like, and it is nothing like this."

Confusion flickered across his face, his expression darkening.

"I _don't_ remember out first meeting," he said. "During that period of my life, I spent most of my time drunk or high, mostly to impress Cersei. So whatever I said... that wasn't me."

Although there seemed to be no conceit on his face, Brienne could hardly bear to look at him. The Jaime that had appeared at the door of the dressing room so many years ago had ended the innocence of Brienne's youth and launched her into the next phase of her life. If that man had been an illusion - shaped by the pressures of fame, a succubus girlfriend, and drugs - it rendered everything that had followed a lie. Maybe the Jaime Lannister she had idolised had been there even then, just buried deep.

The thought turned her stomach.

"But if you can't remember what you said, how do you _know_ it wasn't you?"

As her question did not have an answer, Jaime turned ashen and drew his mouth into an unhappy line. It brought down the wall between them once more, making Brienne feel a little safer. She knew who Jaime Lannister was, and refused to imagine him as her perfect knight again. To do so would only make her the fool that he had once forced her to be by his general repulsiveness.

"I should probably go," said Brienne, desperate to put an end to the blooming awkwardness. "I'll see you later... at our next meeting... or something."

All vulnerability that Jaime had worn on his face disappeared in an instance, to be replaced by his usual hard smirk.

"Yeah. And next time, please don't come barging into my house at two o'clock in the morning. Pick a more reasonable hour."

Brienne shook her head dismissively. Even if they had allowed themselves to be vulnerable for a few short moments, the truce had now clearly ended, and the combatants were hurriedly re-arming.

"Don't worry," huffed Brienne. "I won't."

She returned to the cab with only the most perfunctory of goodbyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! As ever, I would love to hear what you think!


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